It's not until Cori journeys reluctantly to her childhood home in Florida to check in on her father, a former Baptist preacher, that we enter a realm bordering on realism. Veering between hortatory flashbacks and befuddled musings that trail off into nothingness, dad (the marvelous Peter Brouwer) descends into what his caretaker, Winnie Sutherlin (the equally fine Susanne Marley) calls "the Alzheimer's."
Cori appears to have a chip on her shoulder, not to mention a stick up another part of her anatomy, when it comes to this seemingly kind older woman. The reason is eventually revealed -- no terrible shock here. What's shocking, continually, is Cori's brattiness toward the supposed interloper and others; she needles her addled father relentlessly and also turns on the studly young good old boy (Ireland again, this time in a role that seems to fit him like a pair of faded Levis) whom she drags home from a bar for a bit of in-your-face frolicking.
Cori's character is vexing as well as unlikable; it's hard to tell whether the fault lies with the role as written or with DuPont's one-dimensional take. The structure, wherein Cori addresses the audience with embittered commentary every few minutes, undermines and disrupts our growing emotional investment in a sad story whose ending is implicit from word one.