The Longest Ride (2015) is a cheesy romance movie. You already know this because of the promotional poster saying "from the writer of The Notebook", so that is not going to be a big news story. Now, for those who know anything about me, you know that I HATE writing negative reviews for cheesy romance movies, because, in general, I think that they usually have greater depths than their genre gets credit for. What is revolutionary about a mid-South male giving a negative assessment of a chick flick? Nothing. And that's why I generally won't do it.
So, in order to avoid the cliché, I am going to attempt to make this still a teachable moment. This film has all the makings of a successful and, indeed, radical film subject. The plot may not immediately give this away. A sophisticated, intellectual art student (who can, apparently, make a career out of that because--movies) by the name of Sophia Danko (Britt Robertson) falls head over heels for a hunky cowboy (Scott Eastwood) who also happens to be damaged. In the meanwhile, she forms an acquaintance with a World War II veteran, Ira (Alan Alda), with a romantic story to tell, which she uncovers by reading correspondence between himself and his wife Ruth (Oona Chaplin). What makes this story, which seems trite and disposable, into something potentially countercultural is that what is being objectified here is the cowboy, the male figure. This story is about powerful and overwhelming female desire: WOOHOO! Go girl. Get your man.
Except, this is where the movie fails to live up to those expectations. From the very beginning of the movie, the idea of this being a film about feminine desire and female perspective on men is betrayed by the fact that the central male character is the only one who is, truly, allowed to have any depth. He is the one that surprises her, not the other way around. And despite the fact that there are only two male characters with any real screen time, the hordes of admiring women are visually classified into "costly" and "cheap" women, like they were the cattle being judged on their difficulty levels.
We see this in the very first rodeo scene. Sophia is brought out, rather against her inclinations, by a group of ditsy sorority sisters, for the primary purpose of looking at attractive cowboys. So far, so good. Women are allowed to gawk at men as much as men are allowed to lurk at women. After she receives a little bit of attention from Luke, our main lead, the camera then pans over to a group of more conventionally-attractive, but poorly made-up, girls in cowgirl outfits who were clearly angling at the same catch. These are the grasping 'easy' girls that Luke could master in a second, just like the bull that he rides that day. The effect is that, while the men are allowed to express their undying love for women and to explore their feelings undividedly, the women are put into separate categories. They are objectified, even in the very act of objectifying men, except that the women are the focus of the camera, while the men are the focus of the women on the camera.
Another basic test to run is called the Bechdel test, a tool for critiquing films on their female representation. Basically, the test asks whether two female characters interact with one another in a meaningful way during the film about something other than a man. The answer, in this movie, is no. Basically, men compete with one another, congratulate one another, comment on one another, while the women in this movie are reduced to the subservient role of talking about men or interacting with men. It's shocking for a movie like this, one which targets women, to basically turn women into the cheering section for men, and not in a Magic Mike sort of way.
And then, on a more basic level, we have to ask, if this movie is targeted towards straight women, why is it the female lead who is always stripping her clothes off first? Sure, there are a few muscles for the ladies here and there, but let's be honest, the most erotic moment in this movie, and also one where the female lead becomes most assertive, is basically her giving into the man's peeping at her in the shower while she, knowingly, continues to remove her clothes for him. If this is a female fantasy, it is also conveniently a large number of men's fantasy as well. Later in the movie, when the two make a run for a nearby swimming hole, it is Sophia who runs first into the water, a bold move, but she also who starts to throw off clothes as soon as she can.
Finally, on this theme, while I am not the type of person to argue that chivalry is essentially misogynist in any way, or that it doesn't have a place in the modern world, I would argue that there are certain realities that ought to be taken into account when looking at how male and female relationships work today. It's not ridiculous for a woman to buy a man a drink after he's won a rodeo. It also isn't ridiculous for the man to be called by a busy woman, who may or may not have time to answer a call during a school-week. Yet these two things are soundly rejected by Luke as "not how we do things" where he's from, whatever that means. The fact is that there is nothing chivalric or traditional about a modern dating relationship, when you consider that less than one hundred years ago all of a couple's meetings would have needed to be chaperoned and rules of chastity strictly maintained. Only recently is the expectation of women's independence and the less-formal social structures represented by dating catching up with prevailing social norms for dating relationships. It seems ridiculously anachronistic for this movie to try to create expectations that simply should not and no longer can exist.
Now, to turn this review around, I will say that there is one female character who is written much more strongly and assertively than might be expected, and that is Ruth (Oona Chaplin), who is the love interest of Alan Alda's avuncular character, Ira, depicted entirely through flashback and narration. She asserts her desire for Ira in a way that seems very radical for her time, and although their love seems to proceed pretty conventionally for the 1940s, she is nonetheless shown to be a woman of independent means in a time when women were only beginning to take steps outside of the home. It's also worth saying that the portrayal of the young Ruth and Ira by Oona Chaplin and Jack Huston is probably the most effective part of this film, as well as the writing for the flashback sequences, even if the cinematography comes off with more of a made-for-TV movie finish than a mainstream release.
Likewise, credit must be given to Britt Robertson for pulling off a script that only a mother could love. She brings depth and emotion to a character who is basically starving for real lines, and she is absolutely in command of any scene that she's in. She's a better actor than this movie's script allows, but she still makes the ridiculous drip with forced verisimilitude. Good for her.
My strong recommendation is that you skip this Nicholas Sparks movie and rent The Lucky One instead, or better yet, go and see the new Cinderella, both movies that accomplish the goal of enchanted romance without falling into the pitfalls of this throwaway flick. If, however, you do go and see it, you will probably be entertained for 50% of the film while squirming at its awkward dialogue for the remainder.
My Grade: D+ (For DON'T)
No comments:
Post a Comment