The Last Song (2010)

Giving a Miley Cyrus movie the title The Last Song seems like wishful thinking, because you just know she’ll break out at least one number during the course of this insipid film. But apart from her brief caterwauling of an old Maroon 5 song (Really? Were the Spin Doctors unavailable?) and shouting down her golden boyfriend Will (Liam Hemsworth) for attempting to sing with her–and probably would have sounded better than Miss Cyrus, had she allowed him to go on–she’s not heard singing until the very end, which is the cue for those not already asleep or nauseous to flee the theater.

The Last Song is a production of Touchstone Pictures, Disney’s more adult-targeted releasing branch. This movie’s sole purpose is to transition Miss Cyrus from Disney’s reigning non-animated princess to being a real, live actress –and like a distaff Pinocchio, the results are just as wooden. Dorothy Parker reportedly once critiqued a Katharine Hepburn performance as running “the gamut of emotions, from A to B.” Similarly, Miley Cyrus starts at F (for failure) and stays there.

The tissue-thin story follows Cyrus as Veronica a.k.a. “Ronnie,” because lead girl characters usually have boyish names, the first of a plethora of clichés that constitute this entire film. A sullen New York teenager with a criminal past (shoplifting, what a shocker) whose fashion sense apparently derives from old Stevie Nicks videos, she’s supposedly been accepted to Juilliard even though she hasn’t played piano in ages. But she doesn’t want to attend the prestigious school because she’s just so mopey and miserable. (Note to Juilliard: If this mediocre pianist is considered acceptable, you should reconsider your admission standards.) So her divorceé Mom (Kelly Preston) ships her out for the summer, along with her bratty kid brother, Jonah (Bobby Coleman), to the Georgia beachfront home of their father (Greg Kinnear). Ronnie resents dear ‘ol Dad for leaving the family, refusing to talk to him or even read his letters.

Conveniently, Daddy’s beachfront property is just down the shore from a carnival and product placement-filled beach volleyball court where all the local youth hang out and flirt. Ronnie and future romantic interest Will literally run into each other within the first five minutes of the movie in a ham-fisted “meet cute” cliché. College-bound Will, with his chiseled physique and caterpillar eyebrows, is the local rich boy all the girls drool after, but he only has eyes (and brows) for Ronnie. He proceeds to impress her with his work at the aquarium and devotion to saving sea turtle babies, when he’s not playing beach volleyball or working as a mechanic in one of his father’s 300 auto repair shops. Yes, he can do anything–except rescue this terrible movie.

The Last Song is co-written by Nicholas Sparks and adapted from his novel. Sparks has built a career over the past decade by writing weepy and teen-targeted tripe like The Notebook and Dear John, and this one is no different. The brain-numbing screenplay is matched by workmanlike, predictable direction–when Ronnie and Will have their first kiss, we get a 360-degree dolly shot with the camera stopping right where the sun beams across the happy couple, like a K-Tel album cover.

This film plays like an afterschool special or “very special episode” of Hannah Montana, and is so full of tedious unoriginality and pointless, ridiculous dialogue that it feels insulting to those who appreciate even a modicum of substance. For instance, when it’s pointed out in one scene that Ronnie is vegetarian, an adult reasonably inquires, “Why?” She makes a tangential reply that doesn’t answer his question at all, leaving the character detail unjustified and unnecessary. Later, Will is hiding a secret about his friend Scott (Hallock Beals), and when he asks Scott to come clean about it, he refuses and threatens Will. Fifteen minutes of screen time later, Will just looks at Scott and the guy immediately caves. The whole movie is illogical and blatantly manipulative of emotions.

When you see the burned-out church at the beginning (small white clapboard structure, as all churches are in movies set in the South), you can be sure the church will be fully restored for the big climax. When you see Greg Kinnear’s character cough, you know he’s doomed in the Debra Winger role. And when you see Miley Cyrus repeatedly attempt to emote by shedding one tear and then grinning inappropriately, it’s obvious that the girl needs acting lessons, and not from Juilliard.

Trashing Miss Cyrus and The Last Song may be akin to pulling the wings off a butterfly or bullying a defenseless kid, but it needs to be expressed that the Disney brand is not automatically synonymous with excellence in family entertainment. Many parents use the Disney Channel as a theoretically wholesome electronic babysitter for their kids, and the results are frequently dull and unimaginative. You may hear sniffling in the audience toward the end of The Last Song, but bear in mind that some of us may be quietly lamenting the two hours we’ve just lost sitting through this syrupy dreck.

(For more films by Nicholas Sparks or Miley Cyrus, be sure to check out Amazon. We do get a small commission for sending you there, but all profits go towards bringing you more quality movie reviews.)