“Franny” is the type of star-studded attempt at filmmaking that seems more worthy of direct-to-DVD than a premier film festival.

Richard Gere stars as the title character Franny, a flamboyant, aging philanthropist desperate for human contact. After five years of separation, Franny reconnects with Olivia (Dakota Fanning), the orphaned 20-something daughter of his two best friends. Olivia, attempting to rebuild the family she lost five years prior, arrived to the scene already married and several months pregnant. Reliving the wonder and ties of friendship Franny once shared with her parents (Dylan Baker and Cheryl Hines), he bounds back into Olivia’s new life with full force — and full financial support.

It is comical that Hines of “Curb Your Enthusiasm” appears in the film, for the same cringe-worthy moments of human ineptitude exhibited by Larry David’s “Curb” character are mirrored by Gere’s Franny. He pushes the limits, unable to draw the line between generosity and vulgarity. Franny pours money into every relationship and bump along the road, mistaking nouveau-riche condescension for philanthropy. Like Larry, Franny is both wealthy and socially unaware, but unlike Larry, Franny’s hijinks are not funny. Franny is a desperate, lonely addict — but not the kind that an audience can eagerly support.

Franny’s utter loathsomeness is not a product of Gere’s performance. Gere endows his character with a pathetic, damaged quality that one would not expect from Mr. “American Gigolo.” In fact, it seems as though Gere is finally acting his age.

However, the same cannot be said for Fanning. Now 21 years old and known for her childhood roles in “I Am Sam” and “Man on Fire,” accepting Fanning as a pregnant wife is difficult to do. Child-star syndrome is partially to blame — Fanning’s vast oeuvre of prepubescent performances is difficult to wipe from collective memory — but her performance is not without fault. Olivia waifs through the film with a blank expression and few lines of necessary dialogue. The little screen time that she has is unmemorable, her delivery and reactions hollow. She seems not like an orphaned daughter eager to pave her own way, but an overly medicated washcloth with intentions of pure self-betterment.

When the film finally reaches its climactic peak, it feels forced. The fixed smiles worn by Olivia and her husband turn into unceremonious frowns, as if they are saying “Let’s finish shooting this film.” The conclusion of “Franny” follows with a similar magical haste. Fanning’s unbelievable performance finally fits within the film — viewers cannot take either seriously.

A version of this article appeared in the Wednesday, April 22 print edition. Email Isabel Jones at [email protected].