It takes more than arithmetic to describe what’s wrong with Charlie St Cloud, but let’s start with a tally. The setup includes a dead brother, an absent father, a dead father, two dead friends, a fleeing mother and a cancer-stricken EMT. All exist simply to teach the title character (Zac Efron) that it’s important not to wallow in grief, and that someone on high – presumably the same deity who presides over M. Night Shyamalan movies – moves in mysterious ways. Charlie talks to the dead, you see, although the rules of who, when and precisely how dead are subject to the loose logic of the screenwriters. You may begin to wonder if you’re hallucinating, as Charlie St Cloud turns into a romance so gauzy it makes Ghost look like Ibsen’s Ghosts. How many people must suffer for Charlie’s self-esteem? The answer is so contrived and shameless it’s hard not to wonder if the movie is a cosmic joke.