Cast:
Channing Tatum as John Tyree
Amanda Seyfried as Savannah Curtis
Richard Jenkins as Mr. Tyree
Henry Thomas as Tim
D.J. Cotrona as Noodles
Cullen Moss as Dan Rooney
Gavin McCulley as Starks
Jose Lucena, Jr. as Berry
Keith Robinson as Captain Stone
Scott Porter as Randy
Review:
No one would deny that film is an inherently visual medium. Character, plot and dialogue may be the bedrock that makes a movie work, but the visuals are the funnel their stories reach us through. Itâs not an accident that many of the best directors come from an artistic or photographic background; the ability to think visually and produce beautiful images is essential. Itâs not surprising that most of the best films have exquisite set design and lighting that would make Rembrandt green with envy.
But it can go too far. In the quest for perfect images, it is not at all unusual for filmmakers to keep going past their sets and start casting their films like they would choose a prop, eyeing their leads for proportion and symmetry and who cares if their dialogue always sounds like theyâre reading it off of a cue card. Iâm not naive enough to question why successful actors are necessarily attractive, but when that becomes the determining factor in their place in a film, you are setting yourself up for disaster.
Case in point: âDear John.â
An adaption of Nicholas Sparksâ novel, âDear Johnâ is already at a disadvantage before the first actor appears on screen. Sparksâ stories are usually contraptions designed to deliver mild heartache and banal characterization (and âDear Johnâ is no exception), but he doesnât exactly have the copyright on that particular problem. Hollywood loves nothing so much as easy emotion, because it is so easy to sell, which certainly explains why Sparks has found such a comfortable niche there.
The telling difference that film can bring to these sorts of things is in the humanization of the words, in the way people actually speak the dialogue. A talented (or even journeyman) actor can add layers to the most simple phrase or sentence, creating the appearance of depth where none really exists.
Looks donât necessarily have anything to do with that ability, but if you cast for looks alone without really considering the rest, thatâs how you end up spending an hour and 45 minutes with the human totem pole that is Channing Tatum.
In what is (sadly) the greatest dramatic challenge he has yet faced, Tatum stars as John, a young Special Forces soldier who, while spending a rest leave with his father on Charlestonâs beaches, meets the woman (Amanda Seyfried) who is probably the love of his life.
He certainly looks the part, but how can you possibly feel anything for or care about a person who says everything as if he were reading a book report in front of his class?
The son of a semi-autistic obsessed with coin collecting father (Richard Jenkins), John has developed his problems in communicating with others, keeping most people at a distance and breaking out into violence when situations become too complex or frustrating. Despite that handicap, it looks like college student Savannah (Seyfried) might be able to provide the same structure for his emotions that the military has done for his violent impulses. With something to look forward to he begins counting the days till his enlistment is up and he can finally get on with his life, passing the time through letters back and forth to Savannah as they desperately try to keep their relationship alive.
And then 9/11 happens.
âDear Johnâ wouldnât be a markedly better film if it didnât sentimentalize the terror attacks of 9/11, but it certainly doesnât help that it does. The thing is, it probably canât help itself. âDear Johnâ is built on mawkishness and it brings everything it touches down to that level. It rubs the metaphor of coins and coin collecting so deeply into the audience face youâre sure to have a welt by the time the movieâs over.
Even then, something could have been salvaged. There are some real adult issues at play, even if theyâre only there for melodrama, and good actors have done more with less. But neither Seyfried or Tatum is really up to the challenge, and unfortunately the entire film is built around them. Most of Seyfriedâs dialogue comes out shrill, but thatâs not too different from a lot of young actors and can be dealt with through experience.
But the emotional depths of Nicholas Sparks seem to be completely beyond Tatum, and in a story thatâs entirely built on Johnâs internal turmoil and pain, thatâs fatal. Maybe there is a director that can get a good performance out of him, but Lasse Halstrom (âChocolatâ) doesnât seem to be the man. Heâs made a good looking film, but itâs even shallower than its source material, which is hard to believe.
âDear Johnâ is a romance novel with blank pages; all weâre left with is a pretty dust jacket.