Soporific "Fifty Shades of Grey" Makes BDSM Seem About As Exciting As Waiting in Traffic

Clearly one of the most iconic images in cinematic history.

Fifty Shades of Grey plays like a neutered version of 9 ½ Weeks. Well, wait, no. Although that Mickey Rourke/Kim Basinger flick has been a punching bag for the last 30 years, it does have some depth to it – interesting psychosexual exploration, discernible character arcs and, most pertinently, actual eroticism. So on reflection, neutered is probably too kind of a descriptor. It would be more apt to say “Fifty Shades of Grey plays like the castrated version of 9 ½ Weeks."

Boom! Put that on a movie poster.

In all seriousness, I’m not trying to be harsh here. Well, that’s not true, I am trying, but I don’t really want to be harsh. Although I recognize my man card would be on the line if a review of this film wasn’t a slam, I would love to be attempting to convince readers why a smutty chick flick has cinematic merit. My ringing endorsement of Magic Mike is proof of that.

But, damn this movie sucks. The dialogue is wretched, the acting is stiff and almost nothing happens. Seriously, I can’t comprehend how this film clocks in over two hours – it makes the last few Twilight films look like intricate labyrinths of dense plotting.

Speaking of Twilight, my wife tells me Fifty Shades of Grey actually started as Twilight fan fiction, and having only experienced these stories via film, I can totally see that. Take the Underworld out of Twilight and blow past the sexual tension by just getting to the sex, and you’d basically have Fifty Shades of Grey. After all, both stories have the same essential misogynistic takeaway – women are weak, male-obsessed creatures of no substance that just want to be swept up and then knocked down by a well-off, strong man. I honestly can’t believe Bella Swan and Anatasia Steele are the pop cultural heroines of our age, nor can I believe they were created by female writers and not dirty old men. Thank God that Katniss Everdeen exists and that our books and movies are offering at least one strong, positive role model for young women (and that's in addition to a way better story -- #TeamHungerGames).

All this sexism is my biggest issue with this brand of fantasy, but I might be able to look past it if Fifty Shades of Grey had a couple I could believe in. Dakota Johnson and Jamie Dornan are both fine physical specimens, but unfortunately they have no chemistry. In fact, I’d argue they somehow have negative chemistry. I wasn’t expecting Leonardo DiCaprio-Kate Winslet level heat, or even Ryan Gosling-Rachel McAdams energy, but this is a joke. I swear there’s a scene or two in this thing in which Johnson and Dornan look so bored that they might actually fall asleep. I guess, in that way, their both stand-ins for the audience.

And that’s the most unforgivable thing of all –  the movie is mind-numbingly dull. Thinking about it now, I'm reminded of a skit from a recent episode of Last Week Tonight with John Oliver. While railing against the inequality and injustice of the American bail system, Oliver showed “Pretrial Services,” a parody segment of reality shows like Dog the Bounty Hunter that focused on humdrum and unexciting office work. I mention this because Fifty Shades of Grey is the erotic thriller equivalent of “Pretrial Services.” It has scene after scene in which the leads discuss an in-depth non-disclosure agreement, and it features the least taboo sexual fetishes imaginable – blindfolds, ice, and spanking, oh my. D-

"Catching Fire" Takes "The Hunger Games" Series to the Next Level

No that's not a scene from Black Swan. It's the latest Hunger Games.
Notice the guy in the corner with the purple hair?

In my review of The Hunger Games I called it “a solid double that, with exposition largely dispatched with, paves the way for an even better second outing.” The Hunger Games: Catching Fire, the latest entry in the series, lives up to that prediction, deepening and improving what the first film did well, while simultaneously correcting its most problematic elements.

The film picks up with Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence) back in district 12, living in the Victor’s Village alongside drunken mentor Haymitch (Woody Harrelson) and fellow tribute Peeta (Josh Hutcherson). She’s dealing with post-traumatic stress disorder and she barely even looks Peeta’s way following the events of the first film, but things are mostly going OK – her mom and sister are safe and living in luxury with her, and she’s getting pretty cozy with long-time friend Gale (Liam Hemsworth).

But, her defiant gestures from her time in the arena have bred hope of uprising within many of the districts. President Snow (Donald Sutherland) isn’t happy with her, and now she has to go on her victor’s tour during which she’ll have to confront the emotional fallout of her time in the arena with Peeta. Even worse, Snow threatens the lives of Katniss’s loved ones, implying he’ll do some pretty nasty things unless she sells the love story rouse believably enough to discredits herself as an instigator and symbol of rebellion.

Needless to say, that doesn’t go over well, causing President Snow to be all “I’m going to kill this chick.” But “Hey, not so fast,” says Plutarch Heavensbee (Phillip Seymour Hoffman, brining the same icy calm and confidence he displayed in Mission Impossible 3), the man who took over as Gamesmaker after the last one was killed for getting Snow into this predicament in the first place. Heavensbee argues killing her outright would only make Katniss a martyr; instead, he suggests a plot that would have her return to the arena in a sort of Hunger Games: All-Stars Edition, pitting her against 23 former winners. He promises her death in a way that will invalidate her as symbol, while also offering the added bonus of eliminating 22 other victors, all of whom now pose a threat due to the hope they instill within the districts of Panem.

There’s plenty of interesting metaphorical subtext in all of this, particularly related to the way our society disenfranchises the lower class while placating them with false hopes and trivial preoccupations. I get that it’s easy to label all sorts of movies as allegories for the Occupy Movement, especially those with dystopian futures (Elysium, In Time, etc.) but there’s something that feels almost fresh about the way this series focuses specifically on “hope” as a weapon used for both oppression and revolution. 

Katniss's defiance has inspired revolt throughout the other districts.

Twilight has been an obvious comparison for this series since it was first announced, but as The Hunger Games continues to distinguish itself as one of the higher quality franchises of the moment, it seems clear that the more apt comparison may be the Harry Potter films. As with Potter, The Hunger Games is working from legitimately solid source material, and it is being treated with dignity by its filmmakers who have put a premium on talent and quality. Superb actor after superb actor populates these films (and will continue to do so as  Julianne Moore is set to join the final two installments), and the behind-the-scenes players are impressive across the board. Look no further than the screenwriters for proof – this episode has been adapted by Oscar winners Michael Arndt (Toy Story 3, Little Miss Sunshine) and Simon Beaufoy (Slumdog Millionaire, 127 Hours).

As with Harry Potter’s Christopher Columbus before him, writer-director Gary Ross (Pleasantville, Seabiscuit) has been unfairly maligned for his stewardship of the franchise’s first film, with most detractors focusing on the negatives (most specifically, his decision to go all shaky cam). But, it’s worth noting that launching a franchise like this is nearly impossible. Occasionally a bad one succeeds (Twilight) or a promising one fails (The Golden Compass), but young adult literature adaptations usually tend to be gross miscalculations along the lines of Eragon, I Am Number Four and The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones.

The fact that Ross delivered a hit, clearly established the world in an accessible manner and nailed the tone and casting is a pretty spectacular feat, and accomplishing all of that did a great deal of the heavy lifting for this second outing. For my Phillies fans out there, he’s basically what Ed Wade was to the 2008 championship – hamstrung by budgetary concerns and remembered for his miscues, despite planting the seeds for greater achievement.

But just as Pat Gillick deserves a great deal of credit for bringing a World Series trophy to Philadelphia, Francis Lawrence (Constantine, I am Legend) deserves his fair share for Catching Fire. A singular success along the lines of the Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is rare enough, but even rarer is a franchise like Harry Potter – one that not only maintains a level of quality but continues to improve. Regardless of what you think of his previous output overall, Lawrence is experienced with the genre and a far more established visual stylist than Ross, and I think that makes a world of difference. He wisely abandons the shaky cam, opting instead for longer takes that make geographical sense of what’s happening while also allowing the camera to linger on actor reactions and the improved aesthetic of Panem.

Having most of the exposition out of the way is, as predicted, a major boon for the film. With the world established, screen time can instead be devoted to defining character moments. By necessity, the first film is laser-focused on establishing Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence) and the rules of the Games. The rest of cast did nice work, but all in support of establishing the lead. Here, they are far more prominent.

To be clear, Katniss is still the undisputed focus of the picture, and, Jennifer Lawrence remains the greatest asset this franchise has going. As Katniss, she manages to be difficult, uncompromising and closed-off, while still coming across as relatable, likable and desirable. It’s a great role and an even more impressive performance, and at this point in her career, Jennifer Lawrence is Hollywood’s Girl On Fire.

The bond between Katniss and Peeta is way better realized this time out.

But the world around Katniss begins to open up in Catching Fire, resulting in a greater sense that the supporting characters are living their own lives and that there’s vastly more at stake than the fate of 24 tributes. Returning costars like Donald Sutherland, Stanley Tucci, Elizabeth Banks, and Woody Harrelson are given more notes to play, and they make the most of them. Meanwhile, new cast members like Hoffman, Jeffrey Wright, Amanda Plummer, Jena Malone, and Sam Clafin all get a chance to make an impression. 

However, Hutcherson is probably the greatest beneficiary amongst the supporting cast. Dude’s practically playing a saint in these films, and that could become awfully annoying, but the script invests great effort into Peeta, and Hutcherson sells the character’s inherent decency and wealth of emotions. As opposed to the first film, which botched the presentation of the bond between Peeta and Katniss, this one gets it right by highlighting several moments that emphasize why this woman might fall for the meek, unassuming baker’s boy when she has a big, brooding coal miner/hunter waiting at home for her.

Twilight has shown this “Who will the girl choose?” crap can be the worst, but this is a very thoughtful take on love triangles, one in which obligation, affection and empathy take the place of sneering and petty possessiveness. Peeta’s not the type a movie of this magnitude would normally pair with its heroine (as The Onion hilariously explored and NPR thoughtfully analyzed), but he has the capacity to comfort and understand her, and, perhaps more importantly, to surprise her. One particular moment of inspiration – having Katniss (and thus the viewer) actually see the picture Peeta painted of Rue, and not just hear about it later on as she did in the novel.

As far as other changes between the book and the film, I’d say the filmmakers make a lot of smart decisions here. It’s a shame to lose out on the stuff related to Haymitch’s victory in the 50^th Hunger Games and the early scenes with Twill and Bonnie, two runaways that hint at District 13 still existing as a place of refuge, but neither was all that necessary.

Just like in the first film, the biggest alteration involves repeated cutaways to Snow and his Gamemaker. Adding a granddaughter for Snow is a simple way to humanize the guy and further establish the fragile system he operates, but more important are the scenes showing Heavensbee convincing Snow to keep Katniss alive until the time is right to kill her.

One of my biggest problems with the book was the hard-to-shake feeling that Snow’s plan seemed a little over complicated, that a guy like him would probably just kill her, or, at the very least, her family. This is especially true given the way he treats others in Panem and the way Haymitch’s loved ones were dispatched with after his victory in the Games. These scenes do a nice job offering explanation for this decision, while also providing a bit more insight into the twist involving the rebellion’s daring plan to extract Katniss from the arena unbeknownst to her (another thing that annoyed me in the book, but that makes sense here).

Donald Sutherland and Phillip Seymour Hoffman are both so good
at acting.

Although I like that, and enjoy how the film shows Heavensbee conning Snow with misdirection, the twist is a great deal more confusing on film. In the book, the ultimate implication is that Heavensbee volunteers as Gamemaker to help carry out the plot to save Katniss after Snow has already decided to do Hunger Games All-Stars. The goal seemed to be saving the symbol of freedom at all cost, so as to save the revolution.

In the film, Heavensbee is shown to be a master puppet master, pulling strings from the very beginning with designs to embarrass Snow on live television and thus further spark rebellion. He’s the one who comes up with the idea of doing a Hunger Games with past victors, and although you could argue he only does that to buy Katniss time, I think there’s a lot more to it than that (after all, the rebels could’ve just picked her up earlier in the film if they were worried Snow would kill her).

Part of me likes this aspect – it implies that even the good guys are ruthless in pursuit of their goals since they are willing to put previous victors in harm’s way to galvanize the public – but part of me hates it because of how densely elaborate the con turns out to be. It’s hard to believe anyone could ever convince Snow to do all these things in this way, at least not if we're supposed to believe Snow is a cunning and worthy adversary.

Additionally, I imagine nonreaders were very confused by the way the end is handled, specifically related to what the plan actually involved. Obviously confusion is part of the point during the events within the arena, but I think more work could’ve been put into explaining what exactly happened once the film transitions to its denouement. A full on, Ocean’s 11 style reveal isn't necessary, but a few throwaway lines when Katniss busts in on Heavensbee, Finnick and Haymitch would’ve gone a long way toward providing clarification for the uninitiated.

Despite these hiccups, Catching Fire is a great time at the movies. It’s long, but it moves; it’s big budget popcorn, but it has some substance to it. I’m skeptical about splitting Mockingjay, the final book in the series, into two films, but the filmmakers have earned some good faith.  I’m genuinely excited to see the next entry, and in a world where so many sequels seem like inevitable chores, that’s something. B+

Off-Beat "Ruby Sparks" Transcends Genre

Real-life couple Paul Dano and Zoe Kazan produce and star in

Ruby Sparks, which Kazan also wrote.

Ruby Sparks is a wonderfully complex and off-beat film that plays like a Charlie Kaufmanesque take on the Pygmalion myth. For a more modern entry point for the film, think Stranger Than Fiction, except darker and far less overtly commercial.

Cleverly scripted by actress Zoe Kazan, the film focuses on Calvin (Paul Dano), an antisocial novelist who writes a treatment for his dream girl Ruby Sparks (Kazan), only to later discover she’s become real. Others can see her and interact with her, and, besides Calvin’s brother Harry (subtle scene-stealer Chris Messina), no one, not even Ruby, knows she’s been manifested by Calvin’s mind.

The marketing for the film plays up the quirky romantic elements inherent in such a premise, while highlighting its connection to the crowd-pleasing Little Miss Sunshine (in addition to sharing Dano, both films were directed by Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris). That’s all well and good, but the simplistic approach greatly misrepresents the film.

Chris Messina (right) brings a grounding presence to
the film as Calvin's brother Harry. 

Sure, Ruby Sparks starts out as an indie charmer, and it’s often reminiscent of bittersweet romantic comedies along the lines of (500) Days of Summer. But, there’s also a whole lot more going on here than one would first expect, and the film takes off in some unexpected directions that simultaneously call to mind works like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Frankenstein and Six Characters in Search of an Author.

Upon learning about Ruby, Harry astutely notes Calvin can tweak her in any way he wants. Calvin scoffs at the idea, saying he knows and loves everything about her, which makes sense since she’s his female ideal. However, when Ruby starts to flesh out and develop beyond the introverted Calvin’s comfort zone, the temptation for editing proves too great to ignore.

Ruby Sparks winds up making serious statements about the creative process and the way men idealize women. In doing the latter, it offers a critique of the much-discussed Manic Pixie Dream Girl, a stock construct Ruby initially seems to epitomize. But, as Harry tells Calvin, "quirky, messy women whose problems only make them endearing are not real" and "you haven't written a person, okay? You've written a girl."

Kazan is good all the way through, but gets a true showcase once Ruby starts to become her own person and Calvin begins rewriting. She runs the gamut of emotions in this thing, as Ruby oscillates from personality type to personality type culminating in a tour-de-force climax that's shocking in how far it journeys into darkness. 

Antonio Banderas must love dogs.

For his part, Dano is quite impressive. Although he can be overly mannered at times, he’s also an all-in performer who can excel in the right part. Real-life girlfriend Kazan gifts him a great one here. Calvin’s a complicated guy with a lot of issues, reminiscent of a modern-day Barton Fink in the way he’s equal parts timid introvert and smug egotist. And Dano bravely digs in here, matching his career-best turn in There Will Be Blood and simultaneously making Calvin both sympathetic and detestable.

The supporting cast is uniformly excellent, with Annette Bening, Antonio Banderas, Elliot Gould, and Steve Coogan offering great character moments from the sidelines. Banderas is particularly enjoyable as the hippy boyfriend of Calvin’s mom (Bening).

The film barely blipped on the radar when it first came out, but it’s a great achievement for all involved, particularly Kazan. The granddaughter of legendary filmmaker Elia Kazan, she does her family name proud by delivering a rich performance and emerging as a screenwriter with a strong voice and a real sense of character.

Not everything about the film is perfect. I wasn’t thrilled with the ending, partly because I thought it would be stronger if Calvin and Ruby had moved on and partly because it made me wonder too much about how he would explain this craziness to everyone else in his life who’ve already met Ruby. However, it’s not a make or break thing, and ultimately, when a film is this smart, emotionally affecting and thought-provoking, something like that seems like a mere quibble. A

Video Review: Surprise, "This Means War" Stinks

Yes, Chris Pine has a swimming pool in his ceiling that he

stocks with hot women. Needless to say, CIA gigs pay well.

This Means War mostly sucks. It’s an action comedy with sporadically tepid action and a modicum of lukewarm laughs, and it fails to offer even one standout scene. Still, the film is inoffensive, easy-to-follow and features three attractive and charming leads, so it’s not a total bust. It’s just the type of movie that’s best viewed as ancillary stimulation while you’re busy doing something else like building furniture from IKEA, writing holiday cards, or, I don’t know… cross-stitching.

Sadly, I was not multitasking during my viewing of This Means War, which focuses on playboy FDR (Chris Pine) and sensitive Tuck (Tom Hardy), two best buddy CIA agents vying for the affection of Lauren (Reese Witherspoon), unbeknownst to her. Since the movie had my attention, I was able to notice several indicators that the filmmakers were most likely keenly aware of the film’s destiny as nothing more than background filler.

Take for instance a car chase sequence in which Tuck tells Lauren to take the wheel so he can assist FDR in shooting at their pursuers, but instead of saying “Take the wheel, Lauren,” he says “Take the wheel, Reese.” Then there’s a gag at the end of the movie, where FDR reveals he once slept with Tuck’s baby-mama (whom Tuck has resumed a relationship with). On its face that would seem fine, except for the fact that it is strongly hinted earlier in the film that this woman is FDR’s cousin. 

"Steal a lame action comedy? Don't mind if I do."

I like to imagine that someone caught these issues, but that, when brought up to director McG, he responded by saying, “Seriously? Nobody’s going to remember Reese’s character name – I’m directing this movie and couldn’t tell you the name. I’m not making Tom do another audio dub. It’s pointless. And we need a last gotcha line in this thing, because audiences, they love those kickers. We don’t actually come out and explicitly say the woman is related to Chris’ character, so let’s just roll with it. I mean do you really expect people to use simple context clues here when they’ll probably be 80 to 90% preoccupied with something else like making homemade guacamole or playing Jenga?”

That’s really my take away from this movie, but I guess it’s worth pointing out that Chelsea Handler does some nice work here as Lauren’s vulgar and encouraging friend Trish. Any humor in this thing is mostly due to her, and IMDB indicates she adlibbed much of her lines, so nice work there.

And, can someone please explain to me what is happening with Angela Bassett’s career? She’s a fantastic actress, and I know good roles are hard to come by for women as they age, but the last few roles I’ve seen her in aren’t just bad; they’re so paper-thin and throwaway that it’s insulting to her talent. As in The Green Lantern (check my review here), Bassett is cast as a high-ranking official in a government agency, and yet the film totally drops the character, giving her even less to do that that film did.

McG and the screenwriters did Angela Bassett a disservice 

here. The hair and wardrobe people -- they did nice work.

Looking at her upcoming slate, it looks like she could be in store for more of the same, as she’ll be playing the Secret Service director in the Gerard Butler thriller Olympus Has Fallen. What gives here? How exactly did the star of What’s Love Got to Do With It, Waiting to Exhale, and how Stella Got her Groove Back become typecast as a government agent head (a role she also filled in an even more nonexistent part in Mr. and Mrs. Smith)? I know she’s in her 50s, but she’s got chops and is still stunning, and I have to think her name still has some cache with audiences. Somebody needs to give this woman a meaty part on a cable drama or something. Sigh… at least her other upcoming film Black Nativity seems a bit more interesting and challenging.

OK, I’m done with my Angela Bassett rant. Getting back on point: This Means War is a bad film, but would do in a pinch if you need something to “watch” while e-filing your taxes. D-



The Lucky One Leaves Viewers Not So Lucky, Unless Viewers Happen To Be Young Females

In The Lucky One, Zac Efron plays a Marine who decides to

find the woman pictured in a photograph he found in Iraq.

A movie based on a Nicholas Sparks book starring Zac Efron.

That’s all you need to know about The Lucky One. The plot, other cast members, the script, and the director are all superfluous. The Sparks factor promises a weepy melodrama with moody photography of a picturesque southern locale, a saccharine score, cheesy dialogue, and some sensual kissing under falling water (usually rain, but here a shower head). 

Meanwhile, the casting of Efron ensures females will show up to this thing, because if there’s one constant in these Sparks adaptations, it’s that the ones that skew younger are more profitable, especially if there’s a rising heart throb at the center of the action.*

* First weekend box office results strengthen this dictum. The movie opened to $22.5 million last weekend, making it the second-best start for a Sparks movie. Oh, and the audience was 76 percent female.

Having said all of that, it’s my goal to write reviews of everything I see from now on, and so I’m going to assess The Lucky One even if it is pointless to do so.

Efron (I’m not even bothering with character names here) stars as a Marine who finds a picture of a woman (Taylor Schilling) that becomes his good luck charm. Right out of the gate, the picture saves his life (immediately after he walks over to pick it up, the spot where he was standing gets bombed), and we’re told it continues to do so throughout the remainder of his third and final tour.

Upon returning to America, Efron briefly stays in Colorado with his sister’s family but has trouble fitting in due to post-traumatic stress (which never really rears its head again). He does stay long enough to pick up his well-trained dog and to inexplicably discover the picture was taken in North Carolina simply by Googling pictures of lighthouses (there’s a lighthouse in the picture, you see).

Deciding he needs to express his thanks to his mystery woman, Efron and his dog walk to North Carolina. From Colorado. Yes, you read that right. He walks 1,500 miles, because, as we’re told later, he likes to walk. The implication: this is one deep and reflective Marine.

When he finally tracks Schilling down, Efron doesn’t tell her why he’s there, because it’s just too hard. Plus, she already thinks he’s there simply to apply for a job at the kennel she runs, so why not just apply and see what comes of it, you know?

Efron Googles lighthouses.

Schilling proves wary of Efron at first. He’s a marine, and she has weird feelings about soldiers because her brother died in combat. But eventually, he wins her over, because he’s just so good with her son, not to mention the fact that he looks like Efron and her sassy grandma (Blythe Danner) thinks he’s a nice young man. Eventually, Efron wears Schilling down, and they get to kissing underneath that shower head I mentioned before, which, to be clear, is in a barn where they ultimately have PG-13 barn sex.

But there’s also a jealous ex-husband (Jay R. Ferguson) who happens to be a cop and the mayor’s son, which means he can really raise some shit if he wants to. And of course, there’s the secret Efron has hanging over his head, which is sort of reminiscent of the secret Ben Affleck had hanging over his head in Bounce. Except in that movie the stakes were actually high, because Affleck was sort of to blame for the death of Gwyneth Paltrow’s husband, as opposed to just being a guy who found a picture that a girl’s brother dropped before dying.**

** I’m not sure if the movie intends to suggest if he hadn’t dropped the picture, the brother might not have died. But Schilling does tell Efron it was meant to be her bro’s good luck charm not his, and so there is that sense, which I found amusing, particularly because it implies she believes a picture of her truly does ward off death.

I know that’s a long synopsis for such a mediocre movie, but I wanted to convey how generic and stupid the whole thing is. Having gotten that out of the way, I should say that the film (outside of the crazy ex-husband stuff, most of which I’ve left unexplained because those developments add a level of WTF enjoyment to the film) is pleasant enough, because Efron*** and Schilling have a nice tender chemistry that the film thankfully takes time to let breathe and develop.

*** Efron gets a lot of shit, but I’ve found him to be an amiable presence in Hairspray and 17 Again, and here he does a nice job of downplaying his characteristic enthusiasm to solid effect. I doubt he will rise from his Teen Beat beginnings to become the next Depp or DiCaprio, but he’s not a bad actor, and I am liking his choices of late. Sparks movies have proven successful stepping stones for Ryan Gosling and Channing Tatum (two actors who have a ton of heat right now), and he has a lead role in Lee Daniels’ The Paperboy, which looks promising.

However, the whole thing is mired by the same smaltz that always plagues these Sparks movies. Crackling chemistry and a poignant old people ending elevated The Notebook a bit, but all of the Sparks film adaptations have a factory-produced feeling to them. And the crazy thing is, that’s not even a knock on Sparks. It’s simply truth as indicated to me by Sparks himself. Let me explain:

I met Sparks while on a 2008 Habitat for Humanity trip to his hometown of New Bern, North Carolina. A few of us volunteers were brought to speak at The Epiphany School, a very cool and advanced college-preparatory school the Sparks developed and built for the children of New Bern (including his own).

As the Chair of the Board of Trustees, Sparks gave my group a tour of the school, and made it clear his philanthropic efforts were his true passion, while writing was just a job.

Nevertheless, I asked Sparks about his writing process, and what he described basically sounded liked a formulaic plot aggregator. It went something like this (please understand this not actually a quote, but rather the general impression Sparks projected):

"Well, when I write I think of what I wrote last. If I wrote about a 40 year-old guy trying to move on from a failed relationship, I don’t want to do that again, it wouldn’t be fresh. Instead, I focus on a young woman who’s experiencing love for the first time. And so, that’s how I do it. I move the pieces around.”

As someone who takes literature and film pretty seriously, this type of process disheartens me, and makes assessing works like The Lucky Ones difficult. Essentially, The Lucky One is similar to Dear John in that it focuses on a young soldier in love; but wait, here’s the difference – this time war doesn’t separate our hero from his beloved, it brings him to her. And the guy in the middle – he’s not a nice guy, but a bad guy. And the old person eccentric – it’s not an Asperger’s-afflicted dad, it’s a wise-cracking grandma. Just take the general formula and move the pieces around.

It's almost "Gumpian" how much this guy walks.

  

Sigh.

Anyway, the truth is that plenty of people like their entertainment as formulaic as possible. It’s why TV shows like the Hawaii Five-O remake and Mike and Molly succeed, while those like The Wire and Community struggle to find an audience. Sparks is selling comfort food, and truth be told, I don’t begrudge him his success. He’s found a formula that works, and it makes him a lot of money that allows him to do the types of things he’s passionate about. That’s a pretty cool story about a pretty awesome guy.

None of that makes me like his stories any more – if anything it probably makes me more critical of them. But in the end, The Lucky One delivers the same relative quality of most of Sparks’ better adaptations (a step below The Notebook, but right on par with the likes of Dear John and Message in a Bottle). That means it is sure to make his core demographic very happy, and it’s hard to deny there’s something of value in that.