Little Boy

God works in mysterious ways, at least that's what the sisters taught us in grammar school. It is also the mantra of "Little Boy," the shamelessly manipulative home front drama set on the coast of California during the Second World War. The little boy in question is Pepper Flint Busbee (Jakob Salvati), a 7-year old whose growth has appeared to have stunted, causing him to be bullied by every kid in town.

But for the audience, little Busbee is as adorable as Ralphie from "The Christmas Story," which this film - with its avuncular narrator and Norman Rockwell-styled evocation of mid-20th century America - curiously brings to mind, most notably during its broadly played opening sequences. Once the country goes to war, the mood turns more serious. Busbee's older brother London (David Henrie) is rejected from military service due to flat feet, which leads to their father James (Michael Rapaport) to volunteer to represent the family in the war effort. He leaves and Pepper is bereft.

When a Japanese neighbor Hashimoto (Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa) appears not to have been sent to an interment camp, London expresses his anger in racist violence, attempting (with a little help from Busbee) to burn down Hashimoto's home. London's flat feet (in one of the film's few workable jokes) causes the brothers to fail and they're caught. London lands in jail, while Busbee is sent to the local priest (Tom Wilkinson). Busbee thinks he has magical powers (shades of "Radio Days") after a traveling magician (a slyly funny Ben Chaplin) has him perform a trick at a movie matinee; but the priest convinces him that his skills are divinely endowed. Busbee wants to will his dad back from the war and Wilkinson offers him a handy guide to do so: a list of Christian truths (the Seven Corporal Works of Mercy) he needs to follow, plus one added by the priest - that he become Hashimoto's friend.

With Hashimoto's help, Busbee works through the list, helping the homeless, feeding the hungry, visiting the sick etc.; and they become friends. Lurking like a red flag is the last item: burying the dead. With James locked away in a Japanese POW camp, the film's trajectory appears laid out. But Busbee is undeterred, becoming a local celebrity when his attempt to move a mountain (don't ask) occurs simultaneously with an earthquake. Don't forget, God works in mysterious ways. For days on end, Busbee faces the Pacific attempting to end the war and bring his father home; when the war does (thanks to the atomic bomb nicknamed "Little Boy"), Busbee is hailed as a hero.

In terms of faith-based movies, "Little Boy" textures its life lessons deftly enough. Director Alejandro G�mez Monteverde is smart not to allow moralizing to get in the way of nostalgic narrative he co-wrote with Pepe Portillo; and the hazy soft-focus of Andrew Cadelago's cinematography makes it seem like a Francis Coppola film from the 1980s. The film's mid-section, when he learns tolerance, is the film's most convincing; but the heavy emotions of its last third don't evoke pathos as much as bathos.

Jakob Salvati charms as Busbee. He is credible even in the most emotional scenes (no small feat). And the acting is pretty much fine throughout: Emily Watson plays the mom-in-crisis with requisite anxiety; David Henrie broods convincingly as the troubled London; Tom Wilkinson makes a likable priest; Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa is sympathetic as the Japanese neighbor; and even Kevin James manages to bring some humanity to a creepy doctor secretly in love with Watson. But "Little Boy" is a fable that so shamelessly pulls the heartstrings that its gears show. It's doubtful that God works in such obvious ways.