The Secret: Dare to Dream — Rather overstuffed

The Secret: Dare to Dream (2020) • View trailer 
Three stars. Rated PG, for no particular reason
By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.14.20

I’m always wary of films that open in the celestial heavens, somewhere above Earth, and slowly swoop down through clouds to finally hover above the intended setting; it’s invariably a cue that the filmmakers want us to think what follows will be Significant.

Even for somebody (apparently) accustomed to doing good deeds for total strangers,
Bray's (Josh Lucas) ongoing willingness to help Miranda (Katie Holmes) begins to feel
a bit strange ... as if he has some ulterior motive. (Surprise: He does.)

Instead, what we usually get is cloying, affected and ponderously melodramatic: guaranteed to induce skeptical raised eyebrows and long-suffering sighs.

Director Andy Tennant’s handling of The Secret: Dare to Dream — available via Apple TV and other streaming platforms — skirts the ragged edge of such syrupy twaddle; there’s a definitely sense that we’ve been dumped into an excessively mawkish Nicholas Sparks novel. Happily, this film is saved by warmly earnest performances from Katie Holmes and Josh Lucas … even if the latter gets stuck with some wincingly corny dialogue.

Widowed single mother Miranda Wells (Holmes) works as a manager/food buyer for a family-friendly New Orleans restaurant run by Tucker (Jerry O’Connell), who clearly loves her. Alas, Miranda’s competence on the job isn’t matched by similar care given to her personal life, which is in shambles. She’s short of cash and forever late with bills; she dropped her dental insurance and now can’t afford to get a necessary root canal; and the roof leaks in her crumbling home, also badly in need of countless other minor repairs.

She endures this with the resignation of one who, to quote Marilyn Monroe, always winds up with the fuzzy end of the lollypop. Miranda is one of those people who, if she didn’t have bad luck, would have no luck at all.

She has three doting children, who nonetheless are a bit of a handful. Adolescent Greg (Aidan Pierce Brennan) shares his late father’s fascination with building gadgets; young Bess (Chloe Lee) really, really, really wants a pony. Teenage Missy (Sarah Hoffmeister) pouts constantly, knowing that her upcoming 16th birthday party will be ruined by a more popular girl hosting a party on the same day.

Enter amiable Bray Johnson (Lucas) who drives into town on a mission: to deliver the contents of a large manila envelope to Miranda, a woman he’s never met. Fate arranges a spontaneous introduction, when she accidentally rear-ends his truck while (naturally) driving carelessly. Amazingly, he isn’t angry; the front of her car took the sole damage, which he graciously offers to repair. She accepts; he follows her home.

(I know what you’re thinking, and you have a point. How many “stranger danger” scenarios like this have we seen? But this isn’t that sort of film, so you gotta just roll with it. However ludicrously unlikely it seems.)

Bray proves every bit as kind and generous as he seems; the vehicular repair is simple, and young Greg is delighted to help. But the evolving dynamic is so laden with expectation, that Bray can’t bring himself to give Miranda the envelope. He departs after they all share a pizza … which arrived unexpectedly, as if in magical response to the three kids’ pleas for just such a dinner.

At about this point, it’s tempting to think we’ve got an entry in the Christian cinema genre. Not quite. This actually is a “faith film” totally devoid of religious content, inspired by Australian author Rhonda Byrne’s 2006 self-help book, The Secret. She’s a proponent of a growing fascination in what has been dubbed the “Law of Attraction”: the notion that positive (or negative) thinking is an invisible power, and that like attracts like.

(While I’m a great believer in the power of positive thinking, and agree that the world would be a better place if we greeted each other with more gratitude and kindness, I draw the line at the notion that this is “pure energy,” a palpable force akin to magnetism. That’s just pseudoscience twaddle.)

Anyway…

Hurricane Hazel is about to blow through the city; Miranda and the kids go to bed without bothering to install storm windows. (Seriously?!? Who doesn’t do that?) The resulting damage proves much worse than some broken glass, when a huge tree branch crashes through the roof above the kitchen.

Which Bray also offers to repair, at no cost aside from materials. He finally justifies his kindness by explaining his belief in the “positive thinking” attitude that changed his life, at some earlier point in time. Lucas, bless him, does his best with lines that sound like they were written for Obi-wan Kenobi.

But this is only half the equation; by now, we know that Bray also is motivated by something having to do with the contents of that envelope. At private moments, unseen by others, Lucas gives him a pensive, brooding bearing. This is a man with A Secret (hence the film’s title).

By this point, his behavior has aroused suspicion in both Tucker and Miranda’s mother-in-law, Bobby (Celia Weston), both of whom wonder what the heck is up with this guy.

In fairness, what follows goes down more smoothly than you’d expect, thanks to the engaging character dynamics of all involved. These people feel authentic. The scripters — Bekah Brunstetter, Rick Parks and Tennant — take their time crafting the evolving relationship between Miranda and Bray; it never feels rushed or contrived (the latter’s occasionally “enlightened” dialogue notwithstanding).

I also like the interplay between Miranda and her children, particularly the way Missy slowly shifts from bitchy self-centeredness to a genuine awareness that her mother needs a friend. And Brennan is terrific as Greg, the first family member to view Bray with genuine fondness.

On the other hand, this is another story that takes place in a exclusively white universe, laden with wealthy characters. Due to current events, this is totally tone-deaf … and also ludicrous, given the New Orleans setting. Indeed, the only Black character belongs to one of Miranda’s friends, whose token third-act appearance is so fleeting, that it feels like an insulting afterthought.

Tennant concludes his film as it began, this time pulling back through Earth’s atmosphere, and retreating to the far edges of our galaxy: as if to verify that we’ve been properly awe-struck and indoctrinated.

It’s a shame, actually, that this otherwise gentle and well-intentioned character study is marred by its pseudoscientific subtext; the drama would have been perfectly satisfying on its own.