Well… this is an idea that someone thought was going to
work: Make a movie based on a self-help book that, for those who even remember
it in the first place, was met with meme status on initial release and has
stayed there ever since. Book-to-film adaptations are usually iffy at the best
of times purely because of the adaptation process, so you can imagine
the hill that needs to be climbed to inject cinematic narrative into something
objectively plotless.
Part of that is down to my Dudeist leanings (I’d rather work
on how to use the cards I’ve been dealt than keep on wishing that the dealer
gives me something better; even magic needs action to manifest), and part of that is knowing how deceptive a depressive mind can be and how "just think positive" doesn't really help with that. But honestly… admittedly, this is hindsight talking, but the whole idea that bad
things happen to people because they don’t focus enough on the good
things they want? Not really appreciating the idea that 2020 so far has been
because we didn’t want good things badly enough.
But again, I’m still not entirely against this idea in
theory; hell, I’m willing to bet there’s more than a bit of magical thinking in
the ways I approach art and life in general, so I'm not going to be a total hypocrite about this. It all comes down to presentation;
can this movie, and the writers behind it, craft a story that is able to sell
the idea that a positive outlook is a beneficial thing, something that is
definitely true (if not entirely how the source material frames it). Where that
idea falls flat on its face is in how these writers picked the single worst way
to present it: Wrapped in a big slab of Nicholas Sparks run-off.
Yep, after a merciful four years of not having to deal with
this mealy-mouthed bullshit, as it seems people finally got sick of him after
The Choice (and rightly so), we now have an astonishingly uncanny knock-off of
that same style. Same tenuous romance at its core, same bland performances,
same utterly baffling plot developments, same utter void of feeling while
watching it.
In terms of romance, it’s a love triangle between Katie
Holmes, Josh Lucas and Jerry O’Connell… and now I feel like weeping for each of
their careers, if they’re resorting to this. Katie Holmes is about as lively as
she was in The Boy 2, Jerry O’Connell serves as the disposable love interest
and made me think this is all karma for Kangaroo Jack, and Josh Lucas… isn’t
playing the douchebag this time around. Instead, he’s the entry point for The
Secret into the narrative, introducing Holmes’ Miranda and her family to
positive thinking. He does a decent job of playing against type, but he can’t
rise above this material.
On top of taking what I’d argue is the laziest road to film
adaptation there is, the writers couldn’t even make it sound remotely workable
because the script is absolute junk. The main plot developments, even
considering the Sparks-isms on display, feel really thrown together. You can
talk about coincidences and quote Einstein all bloody day, but it doesn’t make
O’Connell’s Tucker getting a pizza delivered in the middle of a bloody
hurricane any less of a dick move.
And even that isn’t consistent, as he and even Miranda’s
mother-in-law with Celia Weston’s Bobby (another actor I wish got better
material to work with, between this and Poms) function more for the sake of the
plot than as individual characters. It legit feels like a narrative switch gets
flipped and they suddenly become bad people; it’s that jarring. To say
nothing of the dialogue all on its own, including the deliciously ironic moment
where Josh Lucas’ Bray says “I’ll take whatever I can get”.
Look, 2020 has been a really damn depressing year, and as much
as I have issues with The Secret’s brand of lackadaisical philosophy for suburban
moms, I at least get the need for media about being more positive; it
won’t solve everything, but it might help us deal with things just a little bit
better. But holy shit, ‘widow falls in love with magic handyman’ is a terrible
way of getting that across, making me feel incredibly condescended to for
pretty much the entire running time (this isn’t helped by how Bobby is
basically a strawman grim realist for the film to disprove). It’s a weak idea
treated in the laziest way possible, and no amount of positive thinking is
going to change that.
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