Oh Nicholas Sparks. Oh dear.
I respect your success and your ability to write love stories about attractive, white people. I admire the way you can make grown women cry with your words. I admire the money you’ve made writing romance novels that aren’t those weird Mills and Boon series or those now played out vampire love stories.
But I don’t think your books make very good movies.
I watched “The Lucky One” with some friends late one night because well, because Zac Efron. (I know that Zac Efron is mostly fawned upon by prepubescent girls who have never heard a song that hasn’t been Autotuned, but I think he has real talent. He can sing, he can dance, and he also has an unfairly attractive face.)
The movie starts off in Iraq. Zac Efron plays a Marine called Logan. We see a night raid, which is confusing because there is very little light and lots of shouting. Some people get shot. Logan doesn’t. It turns out to be relevant later on.
The next morning, he sees a photograph of a pretty blonde woman on the ground. Because he stops to pick it up, he narrowly escapes being blown up by a grenade or a mine or something. From then, this photograph becomes his good luck charm, and when he returns home and can’t deal with regular life, he goes walking.
In fact, he goes walking all the way from Colorado to Lousiana.
Of course, because it’s a movie, he homes in to her whereabouts. I’m not sure exactly how, because it was a montage, but I think he asked around? Man, sounds like America is a pretty small place.
Anyway, when he finally meets Beth, a divorced mother and very capable, independent woman (Taylor Schilling), he doesn’t know what to say.