And while the view of the afterlife pitched in Charlie St. Cloud doesn’t square with what you learned in Sunday school, there are religious overtones

Last winter, 16-year-old Abby Sunderland set out from California on a mission to be the youngest sailor to circumnavigate the world solo. But by early June, Abby was in trouble in the southern Indian Ocean and she had to be rescued from her ailing 40-foot sailboat Wild Eyes.

The dramatic series of events was all over the news as Abby’s family waited with intense concern and then relief after Abby sent a distress signal. It was impossible not to have Abby’s story in mind while watching Charlie St. Cloud, a romantic drama with a supernatural twist that is set against the sailing culture of the Pacific Northwest.

Abby’s troubles provided inadvertent foreshadowing for this big screen adaptation of Ben Sherwood’s popular novel The Death and Life of Charlie St. Cloud, which plays like a movie mash-up of The Notebook and The Sixth Sense. With the beautiful backdrop of churning sea and forested land playing its own supporting role, the movie tells the story of Charlie (Zac Efron), a gifted sailor with a scholarship to Stanford when a tragic accident changes everything. His beloved, though sometimes neglected, younger brother Sam (Charlie Tahan) dies in a car wreck in which Charlie was driving; Charlie also flatlines before being shocked back to life.

Well, shocked back to consciousness might be a better way to put it. A friend later tells Charlie in exasperation, “You didn’t die in that accident,” only to have him reply, “Yes, I did.” And indeed, Charlie, paralyzed by guilt, forgoes his college scholarship to Stanford to become the caretaker at the cemetery where Sam is buried, creating an insular existence for himself. He made a pact with Sam never to leave him alone again and he fulfills it with his work at the cemetery and also with evening games of catch with Sam’s ghost.

It’s never explicitly stated, but it seems that Charlie’s own brush with death has given him the ability to see dead people. Or almost-dead people. The rules that govern this special power are murky at best. But there’s Sam, every night at sunset, with his baseball glove. They play catch, talk about life and the Boston Red Sox (a holdover from the book in which the story takes place on the East Coast), play in the rain. It’s brotherly bliss. Until the girl shows up and ruins it all.

Tess (Amanda Crew) is a former classmate of Charlie’s and a top-notch sailor in her own right. She’s gearing up to race around the world solo (cue Abby Sunderland B-roll) and is flummoxed by the enigmatic Charlie. He, in turn, is drawn to this girl, tailor-made for him in that way in which Hollywood specializes. She reminds him of his love and aptitude for the sport of sailing. And she’s all legs and lips. But having a relationship with Tess, and even her life, is eventually dependant on Charlie being able to let go of his grief over his brother’s death.

What do the dead require of the living? What do the living need from the dead? It’s at this intersection of life and death—of remembering and forgetting—that the movie does its most poignant work, managing to elicit tears without being too saccharine.

Questions about death are handled with a light touch, their answers hinted at more than revealed. And while the view of the afterlife pitched in Charlie St. Cloud doesn’t square with what you learned in Sunday school, there are religious overtones, provided most clearly by the devout Catholic paramedic (Ray Liotta) who saves Charlie and later provides him with a medal of St. Jude, patron saint of lost causes, at a pivotal moment.

Charlie St. Cloud is itself a kind of pivotal moment in Efron’s career as he attempts to transition gracefully from teen heartthrob (High School Musical) to leading man material. This titular character was originally written for a 28-year-old, and though the producers decided to make the film version of Charlie a bit younger to accommodate the still boyish star, Efron proves his dramatic mettle with an emotionally nuanced performance. The kid can act. But though he acquits himself well here, he’ll likely want to look for more substantive work in the future to continue proving he’s more than just a pretty face.

Read More: http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/movies/reviews/2010/charliestcloud.html