Jackie & Ryan | Review

Ballad of the Sad Doublet: Mann’s Warm, Simplistic Tale of Lonely Hearts

Recalling an era of simple, but warmly rendered studio features fitted specifically for their romantic lead properties, Ami Canaan Mann’s sophomore film Jackie & Ryan is indeed as plain as its aseptic title would indicate. A portrait of Middle American woes that could have easily been set in the Depression era, Mann’s straight laced storytelling makes for a surprisingly pleasant venture, even as top lined by a pair of dubious leads. But as warmly rendered as the film happens to be, it’s doubtful whether anything will remain very memorable once the credits roll.

Modern day drifter Ryan (Ben Barnes) is an aspiring folk singer, hopping around the country by train, the happy-go-lucky sort who seems to be engaged with life exactly as he wants to be. He stops off in Ogden, Utah, and while performing one day, happens to catch the eye of a pretty blonde woman, Jackie (Katherine Heigl). Moments later, he witnesses as she nearly gets run over. While assisting her, his bag is stolen, yet he kindly escorts her to her home, where she lives with daughter Lia (Emily Alyn Lind) and mother Miriam (Sheryl Lee). Her mother seems incredibly wary of Ryan, especially considering his occupation. But he stays for dinner and so begins a romantic bond with Jackie, who was actually a singer of note a decade prior. Now, she’s in the midst of a bitter divorce, with her ex-husband valiantly attempting to extract his daughter from Jackie’s care. She is forced to decide whether or not to uproot herself once more, despite a new connection with the handsome drifter.

Filled with a handful of songs written by Nick Hans, and actually sung by Barnes and Heigl, there’s a genuine likeability to Jackie & Ryan, the type of drama that works because of Mann’s careful simplicity. There’s nothing overblown, hysterical, or even ripe about a romantic connection we’ve seen done countless times, replaced with a sort of realism about how adults can meet, connect, and then disconnect at inopportune moments. The brevity of their relationship is almost shocking, considering the expectations we’ve become accustomed to. Barnes manages to be reservedly charming, despite a notable lack of characterization. More surprising is Heigl, in a sympathetic role managing to be sympathetic. We leave the scenario wishing more for her, a rare occurrence for several reasons.

Mann, still operating under the weight of her father’s omnipresent reputation, switches gears considerably here, following her meaty but roundly dismissed police drama The Texas Killing Fields (2011). Returning to work with Mann once more is Sheryl Lee, in a brief but sensible appearance, along with Clea DuVall as part of Ogden’s destitute landscape. DoP Duane Manwiller, who reteams with Mann, but is usually seen working on big budget studio items as second unit (Blackhat; After Earth) gets a chance to display his own capabilities, transforming empty, lonely landscapes into cozy possibilities. But with a limited theatrical release, a succinct but ultimately humdrum title, Jackie & Ryan seems bound to be lost in a shuffle of other theatrical releases. That’s a bummer considering Mann’s treatment is much more honest and genuine than that famed ballad about Jack & Diane.

★★½/☆☆☆☆☆