With snot flinging from his nostrils and his eyes burning red, the bull throws his opponent from his back before landing a gruesome head-butt, leaving his adversary in a coma.
If this doesn’t sound like a scene from a magnificent love story, that’s because it’s not. It’s a scene from a sub-par romance called “The Longest Ride,” directed by George Tillman Jr., the latest Nicholas Sparks (“The Notebook,” “Dear John”) novel turned Hollywood tear-jerker.
City girls love country boys, and leading lady Sophia Danko (Britt Robertson) is no exception. Right off the bat, she notices bull rider Luke Collins’ (Scott Eastwood) North Carolina manners, leading to a lakeside dinner date.
Flowers in hand, Collins has no trouble gaining Danko’s affection, but she soon reveals her plans to intern at an art gallery in New York just two months away. On the awkward car ride back, the unofficial couple save an old man and his box of dated, romantic letters from a fiery car crash, which marks the beginning of two parallel love stories.
Luckily for viewers, the parallel story, taking place during and after WWII, not only boasts better acting, stronger characters and more emotional response but also rescues whatever it can from the film. This story unfolds in flashbacks via the old love letters of Ira (Jack Huston), the man saved from the car wreck. His deceased lover, Ruth (Oona Chaplin), steals the show and is the most believable character.
The flashbacks are puzzling at first as they initially lean on the lengthy side. Considering the secondary story is superior, the deep dive into its narrative at the start will leave viewers wishing they didn’t have to return to Collins and Danko’s under-performed characters.
Collins is exceedingly stereotyped. His country side is blatantly asserted as he insists on buying the drinks, lives in the loft of a barn and inserts gentlemanly lines like “call me old-school” to make sure viewers know he is the much-sought-after cowboy of their Luke Bryan-induced dreams.
It’s clear that Eastwood’s dreamy eyes and strong jaw got him the job rather than his unconvincing and emotionally dry acting.
Robertson as Danko, though not the stereotypical urban lass, also fails to bring her character to life. Unfortunately for Robertson, Chaplin’s performance as Ruth makes Danko forgettable.
If a love story sinks or swims by the quality of its conclusion, then this one hits the ocean floor like a cinderblock-rigged mafia snitch. A stroke of luck so out of left field solves the lover’s woes, making it painful to watch Collins and Danko gallop off into the sunset. Wow…creative.
Viewers who enjoy a couple of tears, fantasizing about love brought to you by Boot Barn and Hollywood eye-candy will likely leave theaters indifferent about the money they spent.
Those looking for a fresh love story with remotely original concepts, true emotion or—God forbid—a believable ending would be better off spending their 128 minutes and hard-earned cash elsewhere.