It’s reassuring to know that in the midst of an economic meltdown, Argentines still have time to indulge in the luxury of a midlife crisis. At 42, Rafael (Ricardo Darín), a workaholic Buenos Aires restaurateur, feels overwhelmed by the demands of his failing business, his too-beautiful-for-him girlfriend, his captious ex-wife, his neglected daughter, his judgmental father, and (this is shameful) his Alzheimer’s-afflicted mother. Then there are the periodic flashbacks director Juan José Campanella subjects him to: these return him to a relatively carefree youth when he played "Zorro" with his boyhood pal Juan Carlos, inadvertently proving that Rafael was as unappealing as a child as he is as a grown-up. Time to download the requisite heart attack (we already have the Alzheimer’s patient) and the visit from an older and wiser J.C. (Eduardo Blanco, who looks like Roberto Benigni but isn’t funny) and dad’s dream of, finally, marrying dotty mom in a church so that Rafael will appreciate the things he has and not be obsessed about the things he doesn’t. Like personality, passion, and charm. Having invested in inflated sentiment, clichés, and slapstick, Son of the Bride winds up cinematically bankrupt.