Much has been written about the inspiring true story of Antwone Fisher, a Hollywood security guard who overcame a history of physical and sexual abuse to write an autobiography (Finding Fish) and a screenplay based on his life. Directed without a shred of imagination by Denzel Washington, the film packages Fisher's struggles like a press release, openly soliciting Academy voters to grant him one final triumph over adversity. Somewhere in the space between real life and the silver screen, the truth has been sucked into a burbling morass of clichés, as if Fisher and Washington are viewing the past through the dusty filter of self-help books and daytime television. In the story's broadest strokes, the audience can only take Fisher at his word; in its specifics, it doesn't seem remotely convincing. Newcomer Derek Luke plays Fisher as a sullen young Navy seaman whose personal troubles cause him to settle too many disputes with his fists. When a fight over a perceived racial slur lands Luke in psychologist Denzel Washington's office for a three-day evaluation, Luke initially refuses to open up, but Washington's patience eventually thaws out his patient's stubborn façade. Luke's story unfolds through a series of flashbacks: Born in a state correctional facility shortly after his father was shot to death by an ex-girlfriend, he wound up living in a reverend's home in Cleveland, where his foster mother (Novella Nelson) subjected him to regular beatings in the basement. As Luke continues his therapy, he nurtures a tender relationship with a female cadet (Joy Bryant) and grows closer to Washington, who contends with the dicey prospect of becoming a father-figure to his patient. No fancy schooling would be necessary to tease out the young man's problems, because Luke makes psychiatry easy, leaving Washington with only the clearest threads connecting cause with effect. Abandonment issues? Cut to Luke's thugged-up best friend losing his life in a convenience-store robbery. Uncertainty with women? Cut to his boyhood sessions with a sexually abusive babysitter. A quick temper? Cut to a scene where his moody foster mother ties his hands to a pole and belt-whips him into unconsciousness. By the time Luke recites his poem "Who Will Cry For The Little Boy?," he might as well be conducting therapy sessions by himself. Much like Good Will Hunting, which it resembles superficially and otherwise, Antwone Fisher masks a behind-the-scenes story that's far more inspiring than the phony uplift that makes it onto the screen.