The Nicholas Sparks novel-turned-movie The Longest Ride casts Scott Eastwood as rodeo bull rider Luke Collins. He’s in dire straits. A head injury means a bad bull ride could kill him. Whining about his fate, Collins says, “This is what I do, it’s all I know.”
Under my breath, I suggested a new career could be learning to act.
OK, it’s a slam, and probably not a very nice way to treat Clint’s doppelganger son. He’s actually not that bad as an actor and looks so much like his dad that it’s distracting. And for the female audience this one attracts, the distraction will be needed.
For guys, there is nothing remotely interesting here.
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Typical of Sparks, the plot line is the love stories of two couples. There’s Collins and Sophia — played by beautiful newcomer Britt Robertson. Both live in North Carolina. She’s an art major about to embark on a wonderful new career. He needs to stay with the ranch.
Plot No. 2 involves Alan Alda, who plays Ian, a bitter geezer pulled from a flaming car by the two young people.
Via a batch of letters in a basket, he recalls his life’s love, Ruth, to an adoring Sophia. Young Ian and Ruth are played by Game of Thrones’ Oona Chaplin and Jack Huston, who looks nothing like Alda.
The Longest Ride wastes talented young actors and a talented old one. Sparks’ flicks are always too character-laden and move at glacial pace. So instead of the longest ride, what you get here seems like the longest movie.
This is the worst of all of Sparks’ movies. I know, I said that about Dear John, The Lucky One, Safe Haven and The Best of Me. But this time I really mean it.