Small town boy wants to run off to the big city of Chicago and cooks up a scheme to play on the girl's volleyball team in order to secure a sports scholarship to Loyola. There's about 150 subplots, none of which are all that resolved, but that's the big one.
It's not terrible; it's just pointless and bland. Every time you think it'll rise up and make some kind of statement... about life, about art, about sexuality, about anything at all... it just quietly ducks off and goes somewhere else. Molly Shannon (Mom) and Paul Reiser (School Superintendent) do what they can with what they're given, which really ain't much. You just have all these stories — the dead father's mistress, the Mom pretending to be a gay man and having an x-rated convo with a guy online (using AOL, since the film is set in 1999), the potentially lesbian volleyball coach, this, that, the other — and in the centre of it all is a manchild so terminally thin and boring that it wouldn't matter if he were gay or straight or nothing at all. His sexuality really doesn't mean anything in terms of the plot: it's a convenient character add-on no doubt to get this some visibility in LGBT film festivals. Toss in a couple of obligatory film montages — his team tryout, the team winning their games, Mom dancing around the kitchen — and the result is a treacley, tasteless movie that tries to have an inspiring message and comes across as a greeting card about personal courage.
