Burger and Wittenborn flail about wildly trying to create the perfect situation that will leave the audience in tears, in shock or with belly aches from laughter. Occasionally an emotional moment will sting the audience but only because we feel almost nothing through the rest of the movie. By the end of The Lucky Ones, the audience wants so desperately to feel anything, to be offered anything by the script, but no satisfaction is given.

The acting doesn't match the writing in The Lucky Ones. Watching Rachael McAdams, Tim Robbins and Michael Pena try to make the script believable is perplexing. McAdams, Robbins and Pena do their best to lend some credence to a script full of shallow platitudes. How good can any actor act when the script could have easily been written as a practice script by a teenager for his drama class?

The visuals don't offer any redemption. Most of The Lucky Ones takes place inside a minivan. There are escapades outside the van (which make no sense) but the nondescript van interior is the primary visual. It would be the appropriate visual if the dialogue was more compelling, but the van makes an already frozen script icier.

I left The Lucky Ones trying to figure out why Neil Burger and Dirk Wittenborn had made this movie and wondering what was their point. I chewed it over for several days and I still cannot figure out the point of The Lucky Ones.