Call it The Infirm. Of course, the plight of the dying boy plus the plush corruption of the insurance company's attorney (a splendidly oily Jon Voight) transforms Rudy into a crusader. Coppola manages to subdue the melodramatics and platitudes and shameless sentimentality with as much cornpone -- a derelict car in a backyard harboring cats, Dean Stockwell as a catarrhal hanging judge, and Rudy's sardonically drawled voiceover narrative, written by Michael Herr -- as was dished out in Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. It's slight material, certainly not sufficient to carry the domestic-violence/love-interest subplot involving Claire Danes as a battered young wife. Even Coppola slumming (and what else has he done in the past two decades) is worth a look, however -- the work of a once world-class filmmaker deserves respect.