This film makes about as much sense as an 'Ozzie & Harriet' or a 'Father Knows Best' episode. An old copy of Reader's Digest (circa 1962) would provide more insight into modern life, or the relationship between a father and a daughter, than this weird concoction.
I was surprised with Diane Keaton. She appears to sleepwalk through the film. (Given the film's title, I realize that hers was a supporting role but even Martin Short managed a distinct, supporting character.)
I can understand the attraction of an imaginary world created in a good romantic comedy. But this film is the prozac version of an imaginary world. I'm frightened to consider that anyone could enjoy it even as pure fantasy.