Rather than use what little money he has to pay his rent or eat, Brian Herzlinger chooses instead to invest in a documentary about his own quest to chase down childhood crush Drew Barrymore in the hopes of going out on a single date with her. Of course, you dare not label him a stalker. His is, after all, an innocent sort of pestering -- the last gasp of a desperate man in search of the elusive dream girl who will make his life to this point seem at least a little worthwhile. Of course, you may choose to read My Date with Drew several different ways -- as endearing or frightening, as bleak or expectant, as the optimistic daydream of the naïve Everyman or the beginning of a problem that could only lead to a restraining order. Barrymore had her own ideas, revealed at movie's end, but to give away her response would spoil the final and most compelling moments of a movie that keeps trying to convince you its star's obsession is healthy and reasonable. Suffice it to say that Herzlinger could have picked a far worse subject; God only knows how badly things might have gone had he spent a lifetime stalking . . . pardon, adoring from afar . . . someone far less bubbly, perky, compassionate, and sympathetic than Barrymore.