Sunshine on a cloudy day, it ain’t. In the lame coming-of-age comedy/drama My Girl, set in 1972, pre-teen tomboy, Veda (Chlumsky) has her share of adolescent problems: she lives with an inattentive widower father (he’s an undertaker) in a house that doubles as a funeral parlor; she’s jealous of the pretty new beautician employee who’s caught Daddy’s eye; she has an unrequited crush on her English teacher; and she’s starting her period. When her best friend dies from an allergic reaction to bee stings, the world — as she knows it — collapses around her. As played by newcomer Chlumsky, Veda is precocious with a vengeance; the more sympathetic Tatum O’Neal would have made a better impression in the role, albeit 20 years ago. Screenwriter Laurice Elehwany attempts to shape this movie from the perspective of Veda, but the weak first-person narrative ultimately founders, leaving My Girl without a discernible voice. And director Zieff, whose best asset is a knack for eccentric humor (Slither, Hearts of the West), seems bored by it all. Other than Chlumsky, the other performances are OK, although it’s hard to fathom why Curtis — all miniskirts and mascara — has any romantic interest in the dull, chunky Aykroyd. Of course, the selling point of this movie is the boy wonder Culkin, making his first screen appearance since the inexplicable megahit Home Alone. Relegated to a supporting role, Culkin is natural and appealing, a picture of blue-eyed innocence. What a more interesting movie you’d have if it were entitled My Guy.
This article appears in December 6 • 1991 (Cover).
