Why do the lovers in Nicholas Sparks’s internationally acclaimed stories have such a hard time staying together? The bestselling peddler of heartbreaking Harlequin prose has used war, debilitating diseases, and natural disasters as roadblocks to romance in novels like The Notebook, A Walk to Remember,and Nights In Rodanthe.
There are no hurricanes in Dear John, the latest tearjerker adapted from a Sparks book, but military conflicts and life-threatening illness do play a part in separating John (Channing Tatum) and Savannah (Amanda Seyfried). The star-crossed lovers meet while John—a soldier in the Army’s Special Forces—is home on leave. They enjoy a summer fling reminiscent of Danny and Sandy’s Grease getaway, but put their hearts on hold when Savannah returns to college and John ventures overseas for a year to complete his designated tour.
Since the story is set in the early part of this decade, John and Savannah don’t have Twitter, Facebook, Skype, and other contemporary means of communication and social networking at their disposal. They presumably have e-mail, of course, but they choose to stay in touch via handwritten letters—the first of many nods to simpler times laced through Dear John by director Lasse Hallstrom and screenwriter Jamie Linden (We Are Marshall). But major events gradually threaten the temporary tranquility to which John and Savannah cling. A family friend (Henry Thomas) with an autistic son appeals to Savannah for assistance. John’s father (Richard Jenkins), a reclusive coin collector, suffers setbacks. And the World Trade Center is attacked by terrorists on Sept. 11, 2001, prompting John to consider re-enlisting alongside his Special Forces colleagues.
The challenging emotional conflicts of the film’s second half resuscitate Dear John from its melodramatic coma of unconvincing puppy love—a self-inflicted wound that can be blamed on Sparks’ archetypal plotting and execution. Tatum and Seyfried don’t seem interested in the requisite thunderstorm smooches and fistfights with former flames, so why on earth should we invest in obstacles that don’t add up to much?
But Dear John demands its characters make difficult choices as it develops, and it’s during these messy conflicts that the film’s heart—and the actors’ abilities—is revealed. The carefree couple from the film’s earliest scenes is long gone by the end of John. Life has forced them to mature, and the movie benefits immensely from their individual growth. By the time we reach a pivotal moment explaining the meaning of a letter John wrote regarding the value of his father’s coin collection, Hallstrom’s film surprises with a worthy payoff.
It’s worth noting, however, that the final scene of Dear John doesn’t fit—and there’s a reason. It was a last-minute reshoot, a poor attempt to deliver a happy ending. A spokesperson for the film was quoted in a recent story as saying the new scene “leaves the audience with more possibility of what might happen.” It doesn’t. The truth of the matter is that in Hollywood, sadly, having an honest but unhappy ending for your romance is virtually impossible. (105 min.)
