Like a lot of indie films, it doesn't seem to know what it's about, but it has a nice understated tension that keeps it from being dull. The main thread is about a young man caring for his disabled father. Everything else is a jumble of tangents--his fling with a female artist looking for kicks, his dead-ender street buddy, his run-ins with the cop on the block, his attempts at school and a career, his brief job as a drug dealer. None of these quite make sense, since the son clearly can't afford to leave his father alone for even an instant, given dad's tendency to nearly fall down elevator shafts and wander outside in his wheelchair. Scott Caan channels much of his real father's (James) charm, and I wonder if this was originally intended as a vehicle for them both. Leo Burmester gibbers and drools effectively, though you wish he had more lucid flashbacks. The film meanders without a plan, much like its protagonist, but the threads pull together enough for a "holy s--t" ending. End result is that it deserves to be better known, at least for the performances by Caan and the late great Burmester.