Jackson Free Press

The allure of a babe and a beefcake in a priggish bodice ripper of conventional romance doesn't carry the same weight of appeal as it did when I was tween-aged. Cozy crush flicks, like Dear John, are snicker material for the over age 12 crowd. I didn't snicker as much as I yawned with sheer exhaustion. This is a monumentally sluggish and shallow film. This picture hums a tiresome whine of unrequited love that falters to a fuzzy fizzle at the end.

The broad-shouldered and finely-chiseled Channing Tatum plays John, a Special Forces officer defending his country in the spring of 2001. John represents the ideal American warrior: he's big and strong, a man of few words, a man of action. While on leave for some R&R with his dad (Richard Jenkins) in Charleston, S.C., John rescues the lost purse of Savannah Curtis (Amanda Seyfried), a sweet gamine college beauty on spring break. John and Savannah fall in love. John goes back to war games in undisclosed parts of the world, and Savannah goes back to school. They write each other until Savannah sends the fateful "Dear John" letter. (What can I say? The film is adapted from a Nicholas Sparks' novel. The book title is a cliche. Did you expect the movie to be any different?)

Tatum and Seyfried have a wow factor when they are on screen together. They are action figure perfect, sort of like GI Joe hooking up with Malibu Barbie. But their screen chemistry, which is mesmerizing during the first third of the film, evaporates in the opera of tears and sadness that follows. It's not the actors fault. They give it all they got, and then some, particularly Jenkins as the autistic dad with a penchant for lasagna on Sundays.

Swedish director Lasse Hallstrom (What's Eating Gilbert Grape, The Cider House Rules) tries to balance the script's evolution of emotional hyperbole with detached direction. It could have been worse. He could have revved up the emotion, and then we would have a daytime soap opera for a movie ticket price. Dear John gives the impression of a picture evolved from a story line that doesn't have enough substance to satisfy the star-crossed lovers or anyone else. When the credits rolled, one woman in the audience shouted out what I had thought to myself: "Is that it?"