Adaptation of Neil Simon’s autobiographical Broadway property, about a young Jewish boy growing up in the late 1930s in the Brighton Beach area of Brooklyn. There are personal crises aplenty in this Brooklyn household, with everyone from unemployed big brother to stay-at-home Aunt Blanche making important decisions about Life, but Simon’s fabricated dramatics (and intrusive one-liners) aren’t half as interesting as the domestic and cultural milieu he nostalgically evokes. Not that the evocations are anything special; in fact, they’re so offhand and reflexive that Simon and alter-ego director Gene Saks (The Odd Couple, Last of the Red Hot Lovers, etc) probably haven’t given them much thought at all: it’s their sheer disposability that gives these bred-in-bone realities their small expressive charge. I can’t often praise a film for plainness and lack of ambition, for mediocrity and throwaway texture, but the Saks/Simon ratty-old-sofa approach to cultural memory strikes me as infinitely preferable to the synthetic overexertions of Coppola. With Blythe Danner, Bob Dishy (saddled with some overbearing Father Knows Best shtick here), Jonathan Silverman, Brian Drillinger, Stacey Glick, and Judith Ivey, who strikes the lone note of unappeasable discontent.