You've heard and likely memorized all the usual clichés about love - it's blind, comes in all shapes and sizes, conquers all and, naturally, happens when you least expect it. In the case of "Lars and the Real Girl," these universal truths all apply, but with a twist. "Six Feet Under" scribe Nancy Oliver and director Craig Gillespie ("Mr. Woodcock") join forces to tell the story of Lars (Ryan Gosling), a stunted 27-year-old who is lucky enough, after years of solitude, to meet the girl he fancies. There's just one problem - she's not quite among the living.

Her name is Bianca, and she's a sex doll that Lars purchases on the Internet. When he introduces this new lady love, a "wheelchair-bound missionary" who looks like the life-size Bratz version of Angelina Jolie, to his big brother Gus (Paul Schneider) and pregnant sister-in-law Karin (Emily Mortimer), they are convinced his remaining bits of sanity have exited stage left. When they plead for help, an amicable doctor (Patricia Clarkson) advises them to play along with his delusion until he no longer needs it. So the civilians of the small Midwest town, including Lars' church community and office colleagues, accept this heap of plastic as one of their own and, in an effort to cure him, pretend not to be weirded out by him regularly conversing and canoodling with a toy.

"Lars and the Real Girl" is a bittersweet story rife with sadness and the occasional instance of dark humor. But it feels far too simplistic, especially for a film that touches upon mental illness and other serious matters, to leave a lofty impression. Gosling plays Lars with a sort of disconnected appeal, frequently blinking and fumbling his way through the frames, but we never truly get to know the man beneath the gimmick. When he's in therapy and screams as the doctor touches his arm - apparently, human touch feels like a burn - it shows that he's not ready for real intimacy, though not how he got to that point. Also on the shallow side is the brewing romantic subplot between Lars and church/office dweller Margo (Kelli Garner), which amounts to little more than a few forced-cute scenes of them hanging out. Frankly, he has more chemistry with Bianca.

The most relatable characters in the film are Gus and Karin, who are caring but realistic about what is happening and wish for Lars to quickly return to the land of the mentally sound. When Gus does an Internet search for "mental illness delusion," tries to snap some sense into him, unsuccessfully, and blames himself for leaving home early ("No wonder he goes and orders a fiancée in a box"), these feel like more genuine moments than anything else on display.

"Lars and the Real Girl" could have benefited from a bit more depth, a bit less self-hugging. However, it gets points for its refreshingly bizarre concept, delightful cast and, perhaps most importantly, for not showing any scenes involving doll sex, "Team America: World Police"-style.