Dear John

Pictured: Pathos

Dear Dear John,

Oh my Dear John. I sat on reviewing you for a couple of days so that my review wouldn’t consist of an incoherent stream of obscenities but even then, f-bombs will be dropped here. I accepted viewing you as a sort of self-imposed “payment of dues” to this site because I have the habit of only watching things I’m almost certainly guaranteed to like. It’s been a while since I was forced to watch Fear Dot Com so I was overdue in watching something I didn’t agree with. Yeah, that’s how I’ll justify seeing you: I needed to see something horrible to appreciate something wonderful. But don’t think I didn’t get anything positive out of our hour and half together; I want you to know that you’ve made me a better person in that I can justify any vitriol that might spew from my mouth toward your defenders.

I can admit, with a firm hold on my modicum of manhood, that I was quite fond of your sister, The Notebook also written by Nicholas “laughing-on-a-pile-of-money” Sparks. She was a solid film and love story, with developed, likable characters, serviceable melodrama, competent directing and acting, and Rachel McAdams. So no, I do not have a general bias against your family. I won’t see A Walk to Remember because I don’t like Mandy Moore’s face but that’s beside the point. The point is, I give most movies a chance and that includes your ilk. But you…

NO.

First of all, let me express my condolences to the fans of the late 1980′s sitcom Dear John. My fellow Judd Hirsch fans, I too had my hopes up. Now let me apologize to the British fans of the original Dear John series that Judd Hirsch series ripped off. I’m sorry, but you’d think you’d be used to us doing this by now.

Dear John, your premise, while hackneyed, was still workable. A girl meets a boy; the boy was in G.I. Joe so guys dragged to see you could still hope for stuff to go boom. It works. But somewhere along the way, you forgot to actually get on your way. Your opening scene, with the titular John Tyree (Channing Tatum) having been wounded in battle, was surprisingly deep. For as he lay there thinking about a poignant letter he would write concerning his being shot, his role in the military, and comparing himself to freshly minted U.S. coinage now tarnished by his service, his mentioning that the last thing he thought of was “you,” whoever that was, actually gave me a glimmer of hope. Or it would’ve were it not for Tatum’s (G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra, Step Up, Havoc) dildoed-mouth way of delivering lines. The guys sounds like he’s trying to keep marbles from falling out of his mouth. Speech therapy is commonly available nowadays, Duke. But I guess it’s mean to make fun of the way somebody speaks; he probably can’t help it. In any event, that was the only deep thought you had. Indeed, that may be the only thought you had that entire eternity of those 90 plus minutes. For then we jump into the not too distant past in our characters’ lives and we find John, taking a break from surfing, in trunks without a drawstring to grace us with his scrumptious ass crack, off the North Carolinian coast. But what’s this? A girl with a group of friends from off the board walk catches his eye. Her befuddled escort accidentally knocks her purse off the railing to which she exclaims “Oh noes! My life is in there!” but it’s okay because John dives right off the 20 foot pier to retrieve it.

Your lesson: the possibility of sex is worth a 20 foot jump into shallow water. That or chivalry isn’t dead. I prefer the former.

So now we meet Amanda Seyfried’s (Mean Girls) Savannah, who after declaring that her life was in her purse, yet again upon its return by John, fails to explain how her life was in her purse. I like to think it was Valtrex. She invites him to a night time barbecue on the beach that he accepts. Here, Savannah gives some clues to either her intelligence or character when John teaches her science. Seems Savannah didn’t know that the moon is always the same size which to most 5 year-olds would appear not so when the moon is near the horizon. John explains this very basic principle of perspective to her by using his thumb to show that the moon is always about the same size as the end of your thumb. This led me, my wife and my poor, poor friend to periodically raise our thumbs up and giggle throughout our experience with you, Dear John, whenever your characters did something brilliant. Nonetheless, this brings me to only three conclusions about our girl:

• She didn’t pay attention in school
• The North Carolina school system failed her
• She’s playing dumb for John and setting the women’s movement back _ years.

Thumbs up to science.

She’s equally impressed when John makes a fire and juices the log she sits on while saying how “primal” he is. I’m not fucking lying. That was the line. “Wow, you’re so primal.” Which brings me the overall points of contention with you, Dearest of Johns-

Almost like a scene from Teen Wolf but from neither movie.

Your dialogue would be funny if it wasn’t so boring. The lines aren’t so bad they can’t be good, they’re just fucking tired. This is the kind of stuff for people who have nothing to say to each other. The only reason these two characters would have anything to do with one another is to bang like spider monkeys because they say nothing of substance the entire two weeks of magic they’re together before John heads back to army. Your 20 minute intro was a highlight reel of a relationship that nobody could ever give a shit about because we were never introduced to the characters. It was Scott Howard plowing through other basketball teams before we knew how he became the Teen Wolf that interested us. I’m sorry I mentioned you here Teen Wolf.

Lasse Hallstrom, your director and border collie, let you down. Being your director kinda makes him your father of sorts. It’s obvious he didn’t want you; he really just let you do fuck-all during your production. You’re so poorly edited, with your plodding, inconsistent pace, that this is the first time in along time that I could actually see where a director was just killing time and adding shots to try and make things look pretty. I don’t care how nice those dresses composed of horizon shots looked. Every time you took them off, I saw your stretch marks.

However, I could probably have looked beyond all this shit if it weren’t for one thing- I feel I was robbed of a potentially interesting movie with regard to the subplot concerning John and his father.¬† I’m going into spoiler country here and I don’t care. If you want to see this movie, I mean really want to, fuck you. I’m trying to save you some time here. Some precious, precious time. If you’re going to get mad at me for spoiling this for you then your life is spoiled by you being the one who lives it. Also, nevermind this faux-letter-writing-to-a-movie pap. I’m tired of treating this thing better than what it is by anthropomorphizing it.

Give this man a medal.

So John’s dad has Autism. We know this because Richard Jenkins (Six Feet Under, lots of other stuff) didn’t care that this was a shit movie with shit co-stars; he was going to do his job and do it the fuck right. It was so well done that without other characters mentioning he had it, it was pretty obvious without being stereotypical that there was something off about him, when first introduced to him for all of 45 seconds. Throughout the course of the movie, we learn he’s obsessed with coin collecting, doesn’t care for physical contact, and has a regimented food preparation schedule arranged by days of the week (lasagna on Sunday, meatloaf on Saturday, etc.). It was easy to get into him, to root for him, to feel for him. He is the one shining example of good work in this movie and he only had about 20 minutes screen time, tops.

Also, through Mr. Tyree it becomes painfully obvious what complete, horrible ghouls John and Savannah are. First of all, John had no idea something was wrong with his dad even though, they’ve lived alone together for at least 18 years (mom took off before when John was young) or if he did, he didn’t give a shit. Either way, what dick. It isn’t until Savannah shows up in his life and becomes obsessed with John’s quirky description of him that John actually pays attention to the man who raised him. That sounds nice of her, sure…if she didn’t treat him like an idiot guinea pig. She’s fascinated by autism because Tim, a friend of her family and played by Henry Thomas (E.T.), has a kid with autism that she’s fascinated by. At one point, they try and force Mr. Tyree out of his mentally mandated routine to go to a party at her parents’ house which leads to his abject terror and pitiful screaming. Autism isn’t a head cold. You don’t “cure” it by forcing people with it out of their routines. Good scene by Jenkins, horrible characters in John and Savannah.

Super sum up: John goes back to the military. This is when he and Savannah become even more unbelievable in that they decide to write letters back and forth between each other when it’s obvious that failed abortions such as themselves shouldn’t be able to write. 9/11 happens and John gets a break to go back home, the above incident with the father happens, they take him home. They go back to her parents party and he tells Savannah that he’s extending his tour. She’s mad. Tatum gives the worst heartfelt “TELL ME WHAT TO DO!” speech to dirty a film screen. They bang to make it better. He leaves. They write more letters. He gets Dear Johned. She’s gonna marry somebody else. Doesn’t say who. Probably that douche that knocked her purse in the ocean, he thinks. He gets sad. Longer tour of duty. Then they decide to slip something real in the mix:

Pictured: Actual Pathos

John’s dad suffered a stroke and is dying. He goes back to visit him. That in and of itself isn’t all that impressive but what makes it so is that whole spiel at the beginning of the film about being a like a coin and “the last thing I thought of was you”…yeah that was the letter he wrote to his dad. The “you” was his dad. And this is where you feel cheated.

You get the distinct impression that the dad originally had a much bigger role, that he was a much bigger part of the story and that he and John had much more interesting interactions at one point. I would’ve have watched a movie about these two. I would’ve tolerated Tatum Channing’s performance had this movie been about them. Yeah I know I wrote it backwards, who cares? They’re both first and last names anyway. To make things worse, Tatum decides to act here and pretty well, too. It was too late for my wife, she was already pissed and couldn’t care but I will admit he did it. It’s pretty lame is all I’m saying. At least the movie ends here.

Couldn't find a pic of Elliot being sick so here's one of him looking like Charlie Manson.

Psyche. He visits Savannah who lives on their family’s ranch. She married Henry Thomas’ character because he had leukemia which was nice…except that even though she claims that they’ve spent all their money on trying to save him and that there’s a experimental drug from Texas that will help him that insurance won’t cover, they still live on a ranch and own several horses. Yeah, I don’t think you’re trying hard enough, Mama Mia. She cock teases John with some side boob after they have dinner (alone) in her dying husband’s and her house. He wisely declines and goes back to fight Cobra, the enemy, in Afghanistan. Before he does that though, he sells his dad’s coin collection except for the one coin that his dad prized above them all: the mule (front of a nickel, back of a penny) coin that his son discovered as a boy that started the whole coin thing between them. He gives the money to E.T. anonymously which gives him an extra two months to live. Savannah thanks him in a letter that states they’ll probably never meet again. The last scene has them meeting on a random street and hugging because “happy ending” that’s why. God. Damn.

I’m sorry I wrote so much about this but here’s the gist: Don’t ever see this movie. If it was just about these two tits and their boring love affair, I could almost agree to letting you drink yourself blind to it. I went in a little buzzed and the beginning was probably funnier than it actually was. But the whole thing with the dad was dick. There was a good movie in here and I bet the book I’ll never read has more to do with that. The characters will just piss you off with how they dance around this poor dude and you’ll wind up owing your wife endless foot massages and your friend, who’s ticket you paid for, a beer. If your idea of true romance comes from The Hills then you’ll probably like this. But let’s be honest, if you genuinely like that show you can’t read a cereal box, let alone this review, to the end. If you have a spouse who likes this movie, leave them. You can do better with your hand and some lipstick. I’ve given this movie too much of my life. Not approved, never recommended.

Because it was on the internet, that's why.

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