3.5 stars. Rating: PG-13, for dramatic intensity and mild sensuality
By Derrick Bang
Films made from Nicholas Sparks novels
tend to follow a predictable — and quite irritating — pattern.
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| Could anything be more cute and cuddly? Having finally learn to trust the joy of getting to know new people, Katie (Julianne Hough, center left) finds herself falling in love with Alex (Josh Duhamel) and his two children, Josh (Noah Lomax) and Lexie (Mimi Kirkland). Alas, Katie's past threatens to catch up with her, a development that could mean ... ah, but you'll have to discover that for yourself. |
We meet two or more engaging
characters in the first act, often but not always young people, at least one of
whom carries a Heavy Burden. A relationship develops in the second act, often
built on a foundation of Valentine’s Day-perfect dialogue that overcomes
initial shyness or mutual wariness. Written correspondence often (always?)
plays a key role.
We get to know and like this
couple, and feel they deserve happiness. Then whoosh, fresh tragedy strikes — sometimes unbelievably contrived
(remember what happens to Richard Gere, at the end of Nights in Rodanthe?) — that leads to a bleak and shattering epilogue.
But that’s okay, y’know, because those left behind are grateful for the
experience, having grown into better human beings.
Lather, rinse and repeat.
Message in a Bottle was the first Sparks novel to
hit the big screen, back in 1999; true to form, it concludes on a grim note.
Things improved with The Notebook,
due both to that novel’s structure and the 2004 film’s sensational cast. But
since then, we’ve slogged through a series of soggy, manipulative and increasingly
unsatisfying tear-jerkers, often selected as vehicles for up-and-coming young
stars: Dear John (Channing Tatum and
Amanda Seyfried), The Last Song
(Miley Cyrus and Liam Hemsworth) and The
Lucky One (Zac Efron and Taylor Schilling).
Great stuff for folks who enjoy
having their emotions yanked about, I suppose, but far too much been there,
endured that for the rest of us.
No surprise, then, that I greeted
the impending arrival of Safe Haven
with very little enthusiasm.
Which simply goes to show the
folly of assumptions. The thoroughly enjoyable Safe Haven is by no means
typical of Sparks’ overworked formula; indeed, if I hadn’t known of his
involvement going in, I’d have assumed that some other writer had concocted the
tale. (Until the epilogue, anyway, at which point we smile, nod and say Ah,
yes, there’s the Nicholas Sparks
touch. But that’s okay in this case.)
