'Tis the season for titles that reflect content. First it was "The Stupids," and now it's "Bogus."

This warm-and-fuzzy comedy wants to be a cross between "Harvey" (right down to showing a clip from the movie) and "Ghost" (right down to the casting of Whoopi Goldberg in a central role) - but instead it's just a lukewarm, insincere attempt to make the kind of movie that audiences complain Hollywood never makes anymore. Watching "Bogus" suggests why - Hollywood has apparently forgotten how.

Too often these days, when mainstream studios strive for a slick, feel-good family picture, it comes off as superficial and forced. As if no one in the filmmaking process really believed in what they were doing.

Such is the case with "Bogus," which has "concept" written all over it, along with big-star casting to ensure box-office success in both the United States and overseas. Goldberg is the draw domestically; Gerard Depardieu should pull them in in Europe. Of course, whether that casting is appropriate for the film is irrelevant.

The story has 7-year-old Albert (adorable Haley Joel Osment), a budding amateur magician, being orphaned in the film's opening sequence, as his Las Vegas showgirl mother, Lorraine (Nancy Travis), is in a fatal car accident on her way home from work.

With no other living relatives, the executor of Lorraine's will calls up a foster sister named Harriet Franklin (Goldberg), an independent New Jersey bus-iness-woman. And though she hadn't seen Lorraine in years, she reluctantly takes the boy in, complaining that "I don't have a motherly bone in my body."

Traveling alone on a plane from Las Vegas, Albert conjures up an imaginary friend named Bogus (Depardieu) and spends much of the film in conversation with him. No one else can see or hear Bogus, of course.

As the film progresses, unhappy Albert repeatedly clashes with Harriet and has trouble adjusting in school, but Bogus offers him advice and encouragement - and eventually it is revealed that lonely, unhappy Harriet felt alienated in her youth and could have used an imaginary friend of her own. As you might suspect, she does ultimately see Bogus, and in a fantasy sequence, they do a Ginger Rogers-Fred Astaire ballroom dance that seems awkward and ill-advised.

To their credit, the performers try very hard to make this work, and Depardieu's natural charm does much to make parts of it palatable. And the trappings - set design, costumes, special-effects-driven fantasy sequences - are colorful and surprisingly lavish.