If anyone needed proof that acting can only take a movie so far, look no further than “Sunshine Cleaning.”

The acting is the only reason to see this film. It’s dull, and the script sacrifices strong themes for some supposedly quirky moments.

It’s not necessarily bad to be a cookie-cutter film. But “Sunshine Cleaning” is a photocopy of unconventionality pretending to be original, and its artificiality is distractingly obvious.

Single mother Rose Lorkowski (Amy Adams) is working as a maid to support her and her son, who is having trouble at school.

Rose’s slacker sister Norah (Emily Blunt) has hardly been working at all, and lives with their father, Joe (Alan Arkin).

Rose enters the crime scene cleanup business at the behest of her married boyfriend, Mac (Steve Zahn), whom she dated in high school when she was the head cheerleader.

She gets started with the help of cleaning-equipment storeowner Winston (Clifton Collins Jr.), who has one arm. As they clean up after the dead, including the suicide of an Alzheimer’s patient, they discover that the blood on the wall isn’t the only thing that needs to be cleansed.

The business deeply affects the two sisters; Rose finds her purpose while Norah obsesses over finding the daughter of a deceased person.

Let the forced quirkiness ensue, including citizen’s band radio conversations with God and Joe’s snake-oil salesman scenes.

Much of the film’s mold is derived from “Little Miss Sunshine” — TV trailers even highlight that the two films share producers.

Alan Arkin playing a surly grandfather who teaches his outcast grandchild strange life lessons? Check. An old van playing an integral part in the recovery of a broken family? Check.

This film is so unbelievably cliche that its review practically demands the use of the cliche sardonic checklist to describe it.

Quirkiness is something that can’t just be forced into creation. And regardless if it could be faked, “Sunshine Cleaning” just doesn’t have it. What it does have, however, is really good acting.

Adams performs outstandingly well here. Rose is a woman who takes care of others and enjoys helping people in mourning, both results of her own mother’s suicide when she was young.

That’s the sign of a good performance, when a character becomes a person with both a history and developed personality out of that.

Arkin does well in a role he’s done before, and Blunt performs noticeably well among the Oscar-winning Arkin and Oscar-nominated Adams.

Even the small roles are fulfilled with excellence. When Rose ends the affair, Zahn conveys a heartbroken realization and understanding of Rose’s situation that makes the audience sympathize with a cheating husband.

Collins gives Winston a sort of natural empathy toward Rose and her son. The movie wastes Spevack’s performance as Rose’s son Oscar, which is tragic, considering the rarity of good child performances.

The scene where Winston baby-sits Oscar highlights both of them very well. Unfortunately, nothing is more highlighted than the film’s insincere eccentricity, no matter how sincere the performances are.

Reach the reporter at cogino@asu.edu.