In 2011, director Sean McNamara, a Disney and Nickelodeon veteran with an iffy feature track record (see: “Bratz”) had a sleeper success with the inspirational biopic “Soul Surfer.” Its mix of sun, surf, spirituality and teen angst, dramatizing a real-life Hawaiian competitor’s rebound after losing her arm to a shark attack, remains a favorite among audiences for faith-based entertainment. After some less well-received efforts, including last year’s biopic “Reagan,” McNamara is back on old terrain with “Soul on Fire,” centered on a young protagonist struggling after his own near-fatal accident.
Based on John O’Leary’s 2016 memoir-slash-self-help tome “On Fire,” this earnest effort will have likewise appeal to viewers seeking a family-friendly “true story” with an upbeat message about overcoming adversity. However, the sports angle isn’t so potent this time; while Bethany Hamilton really was a pro surfer, O’Leary is a lifelong baseball fan, which provides a rather less compelling sub-theme. Beyond that, this “Soul” is smoothly crafted, hitting the right notes of conflict and bravery. But it’s also bland to a fault at times, and feels unnecessarily drawn-out at nearly two hours.
Gregory Poirier’s screenplay does maintain a steady level of interest, in part by veering from a strictly chronological structure. We start off with the adult O’Leary (Joel Courtney) working in home construction, when he’s asked by a woman who’s heard about his past if he’d talk about it to the Girl Scout troop she den-mothers. Even addressing a few preadolescents is more public speaking than he can handle comfortably, but when he’s asked a question, he flashes back 20 years to the traumatic event that caused him to be invited.
At age nine (played by James McCracken), he was just a baseball-obsessed boy in 1987 suburban St. Louis, one of six children to parents Denny (John Corbett) and Susan (Stephanie Szostak). One day, O’Leary is impressed by some bigger kids playing with gasoline and matches. No one says, “Don’t try this at home,” so our junior hero does just that — creating an explosion that ends up destroying the entire house. He’s the only person seriously hurt, albeit badly, with burns covering 100% of his body. He is not expected to survive. But he does, thanks in part to the loyal support of his family, a particularly dedicated male nurse (DeVon Franklin) and famous local sportscaster Jack Buck (William H. Macy), who takes a special interest in the starstruck lad.
Released from the hospital after five months, John has major adjustments to make — including the use of prosthetic hands, since his severely damaged fingers required amputation. He gets by, becoming a popular figure at college by being the frat bro most likely to out-drink everyone else. But his self-confidence remains shaky. He clicks with fellow student Beth (Masey McLain), yet is too shy to ask her out until they’re almost too well-established as “just friends.” Later on, John overcomes more obstacles, eventually becoming a professional public speaker. Nonetheless, he confesses to his father (who’s by then dealing with Parkinson’s disease) that, despite everything, deep down he can still feel “like a fraud…an emotional coward.”
As likable a performer as Courtney is, his wide-eyed hero doesn’t really have the depth to make that inner doubt vivid. The variable supporting players — some of whom have been much better elsewhere — make their characters seem even more rotely drawn. Both script and direction stay on a pleasant surface level, frequently goosed by a soundtrack full of rather on-the-nose golden oldies by Smash Mouth, Neil Diamond, Journey, John Fogerty, Paul Stookey and others, plus newer Christian pop cuts. At least they have more personality than Mark Isham’s original score, which is among his less inspired efforts.
The intended stirring impact is a bit stunted by the lack of complexity and nuance in telling John’s journey. Inevitable glimpses of real-life O’Leary under the final credits make “Soul on Fire” retroactively feel like an extended promotion for his books and lectures. Movies like this also frequently seem to contradict their ostensible emphasis on internal faith by having the protagonist’s triumphant moments invariably accompanied by cheering crowds — a fantasy of piety and selflessness that somehow also grants a starry spotlight. This competently crafted, if pedestrian, feel-good exercise will probably deliver the desired uplift for viewers who want their “true stories” played out via cozily familiar narrative beats. But the effect is a little too generic to be especially persuasive for anyone else.
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