This movie was a little like seeing a friend's kid's recital. You'd only stay, smile and nod if the parent were a close friend who happened to be sitting in the next seat. I didn't make it beyond the first half.
The film is a sorry, star-vehicle for the lead actress, Tanya Frederick. If only she were a star, or if Harriet Schock had less treacly lyrics or didn't have an overly-sentimental singing style, perhaps Irene Jensen's character might have been tolerable.
The film fails to explore the relationships between women and their fathers, instead focusing on superficial conclusions and sappy constructs of child-parent connection. It tries to make up for its heterosexual focus by providing an unconvincing man-kissing lesbian.
Mostly though, if the dialog was not laden with grown women referring to their fathers as, "daddy," and Irene Jensen hadn't cried saying she'd never find a man like her father to cut bananas into rounds for her cereal....well, then I wouldn't have walked out.