Full review to soon follow, but it’s worth noting one (interesting? strange?) thing about Charlie St. Cloud, the new Zac Efron flick — that there’s a moment that features a most unusual therapeutic twist.
Yes, the movie touts (and debuts, probably) the notion of “cuddle-rescue.” At one point, when Efron’s Charlie goes to comfort Amanda Crew‘s stricken character, who has weathered a couple balmy days of a very mild Pacific Northwestern summer or something like that, he snuggle/sidemounts her like a pinniped, while director Burr Steers marks time by employing a series of very discrete dissolves. (All this despite the fact EMTs are on the way, less than 20 or 30 minutes away, and, again, it’s not snowing or subzero or anything like that.) Later, it’s said that this brief exposure of body heat saved her from the threat of death by hypothermia (!?), which is apparently the only major injury she suffered in a boating accident.
This is all of course horseshit ridiculous, but teen girls will probably spark to the notion of Efron unbuttoning their jackets and nuzzling up against them asexually. Or maybe not. One twenty-ish-year-old at the screening of the film I caught responded with heavy skepticism afterward: “Seriously… what was that about?”