So, couldn’t he come up with something much more fascinating and emotional beyond kids tossing papers out a window? I didn’t think it was possible, but Duchovny even makes Frank Langella boring. He’s an authoritarian but friendly priest who guides his boys in morals and ethics, but “means well.” Hmm, I can imagine this review has inadvertently quoted a good portion of the pitch script for “House of D.”

But I digress. Duchovny goes all out with shameless cheesy sequences. Let’s run down the list: Tom bonding with the mentally disabled janitor, a group of girls circling our character Tom calling him “Small Balls,” after his love interest finds out he called her flat. And, talking with a jailed prostitute from a tall building; all scenes that defy logic and common sense but are there for the purposes of sap. Don’t you just love the hooker with a heart of gold cliché? I sure do.

And get this: Tom's love interest is named Melissa, who happens to remind him of the song "Melissa," which he learns how to dance to, which is surprisingly played at his prom, that he has his first slow dance to, with her! Horrible. “House of D” is like a bad Hallmark Channel movie from a man who wants desperately to lure audiences to watch, so he expels every single derivation he can imagine, and it’s rather painful. It’s not so much that “House of D” is an awful film, it’s just shamelessly unoriginal and utterly bland. It takes a lot of force for a movie to make me almost hate the Allman Brothers. “House of D” almost accomplished that task, and I hate it for that.