In 1990, a novice director named Randall Miller made a 30-minute short film called Marilyn Hotchkiss’ Ballroom Dancing and Charm School. Then, after paying his dues on films like Houseguest and H-E Double Hockey Sticks and TV shows like Popular, he figured he’d add an hour to the short, set it 40 years later, and mix it up into a film called Marilyn Hotchkiss Ballroom Dancing & Charm School (ie, he lost an apostrophe and an “and” but gained an ampersand.)

That’s some dedication to your story, but it turns out that neither the original Hotchkiss nor the updated one merit that much consideration. The short is your expected coming-of-age tale: A kid named Steve hates girls but, over time (and thanks to Hotchkiss), comes to love them, particularly a gal named Lisa.

In the update, a baker named Frank (Robert Carlyle) is driving along and is passed by the now-adult Steve (John Goodman), who promptly crashes his car into a wall. Frank gets out to help, and Steve tells him his tale, which consists of the 30-minute short film, which is intercut into this one as a flashback. Now, Steve is headed back to Hotchkiss to meet Lisa again, a meeting (on this appointed day) the two promised each other when they were 12 years old.

Frank keeps the appointment for the near-dead Steve but finds no Lisa. Nor any Marilyn Hotchkiss, either. The sessions are now run by her daughter, Marienne (Mary Steenburgen), but here, Frank, a widower, gets his demons exorcised, dallies with a fetching yet troubled girl (Tomei), and overall comes to see the magic of ballroom dancing in just a few short lessons. Side plots concern Tomei’s stepbrother, a troublesome yet funny Donnie Wahlberg, and Frank’s support group, who all eventually end up at the class.

Now what’s this all got to do with Steve and Lisa? Absolutely nothing, and it’s in the flashback structure Hotchkiss really starts to fall apart. The two movies have almost nothing to do with one another, and you can’t help but feel that the short should have stood on its own. Another problem, of course, is that ballroom dancing movies have been legion in the intervening years since the 1990 short – they even made Shall We Dance? twice! – and pretty much the same themes are at play here, too.

Add in the fact that the entire movie is ridiculous and you’ll probably see why there’s no reason to spend much time on this title. Unless, maybe, if you’re a guy and really love Marisa Tomei. Christopher Null