It's hard to tell what's most striking about Smile -- how well-intentioned, how square, how much like a public service announcement, or how totally inept it is. Only the first is actually a compliment, and a pretty backhanded one at that. One of those movies it feels wrong to trash, Jeffrey Kramer's story of two girls linked by a charitable relationship is amateurish to the point of distraction. His screenplay has the surreal quality of showing primarily the moments between the moments we're supposed to care about -- conversations that don't advance the plot, laborious lingering on everyday tasks, main characters who don't receive a moment's development, even a minute-long scene in which an airline clerk asks Mika Boorem if she packed her bag herself. Somehow, an entire narrative emerges by the closing credits, but it might have finished a half-hour earlier by following normal standards of plot economy. Making matters worse is some of the most spectacularly bad acting captured on film in 2005, most painfully evident during the scenes in which Boorem and Linda Hamilton argue fitfully about boys. Kramer's abrupt directing style leaves scenes flatter than the material probably is -- in fact, rarely has a director's inexperience detracted so much from otherwise decent actors. The scenes set in China are quaint to the point of patronizing, but at least they find a focus that the meandering Malibu scenes can't muster. Kramer makes things more puzzling by presenting an apparently parallel story structure, then revealing that the Chinese half actually takes place a year beforehand. It may seem bullying to pick apart a movie that attempts such a sweet message about discovering personal strength and inner beauty, but the truth is, it's a charitable act indeed to sit through Smile.