Dear John is a strikingly doctrinarian variant of that age-old story wherein soldier boy meets college girl on shore leave (by way of chivalrous action), boy performs valorous duty overseas amidst much mutual pining, boy loses girl to plot contrivances and, finally, boy gets girl back (more chivalry). It features a great many strategically placed tragedies and reduces love to the sort of thing that happens during the natural course of events to young, pretty, caucasian heterosexuals on a beach holiday. In doing so, it will make at least 40 per cent of your girlfriends cry.
It descends from a disappearing subgenre of purely mainstream “young love” stories, born from the space between the cynical pop confections of the ’80s and the increasingly indie-fied offerings of the 21st century. No Vampire Weekend on this soundtrack, though — just a whole lot of strumming.
Channing Tatum, having been carefully bred to reflect just the right mix of “purity-ball” father, humble all-American golden boy and borderline-creepy Aryan masculine ideal, is just about ready to deflower your virgin daughter (on her wedding night, of course) as the titular soldier. Amanda Seyfried plays Savannah, whose name makes the difficult jump from stripper-ready nom de pole to the other end of the socioeconomic spectrum. She’s a talented young actress who’s shown promising range to date, so it’s discouraging to see her cashing her cheque as she markets herself to the Bible Belt. Tatum gets an airbrushed approximation of a bad-boy past (he’s discouraged from entering certain rough and tumble seafood restaurants) and Seyfried gets a heavy-handed dinner party scene to show that she’s upper crust.
The film is well-paced, with the opening act (boy meets girl) lasting long enough to build a semblance of actual emotional connection, and the war scenes adding just enough grit before John flies home again (and again and again — plot contrivances, remember?). It is ably rendered with a muted summer haze, and there isn't, strictly speaking, anything wrong with watching the beautiful people act valorous for a change. What can be more than a little disturbing is how calibrated the story is to prevent our star-crossed pair from having to make any real decisions that would compromise their morality. There are enough high-drama turns to fill two lesser melodramas, but why not include a conversation in which Savannah acknowledges what she's given up? What’s actually on display seems best appreciated by those with a heightened appreciation of new American conservatism and those for whom the old Notebook fix isn't quite doing it anymore.
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