Perhaps it’s unfair to expect a movie powered by the reassuringly gentle grooves of easy listening to be a challenging piece of work. But did Craig Brewer’s Song Sung Blue, based on the real-life story of a husband-and-wife Neil Diamond tribute act, have to be so unremittingly bland? It’s almost too obvious to draw a parallel between the directorial approach and the pleasantly forgettable, unapologetically corny music at its rhinestone-encrusted heart, but this is the very definition of middle-of-the-road film-making.
It would undoubtedly help to be a fan of the music, and yet it’s hard to imagine anyone as passionate about Diamond’s vast and insidiously catchy oeuvre as Mike Sardina (Hugh Jackman). A Vietnam veteran, recovering alcoholic, part-time mechanic and jobbing musician, Mike is barely managing to make his rent from sporadic gigs as an Elvis impersonator (there’s already an established Presley tribute act on the Milwaukee circuit). He’s happiest when performing stomping rock standards as his denim-clad alter ego, Lightning. It’s at one of the impersonator events – a dispiriting “Legends” evening at the Wisconsin state fair – that Mike meets Claire (a delightful Kate Hudson, continuing her career trend of being the best thing in a middling movie). She’s a bubbly hairdresser in a nylon wig and sequins who is billed as Patsy Cline for the night. When Claire suggests that Mike could pass for Neil Diamond, he initially rejects the idea: the Diamond back catalogue is hallowed ground. To become his impersonator would not, Mike feels, be respectful of the great man, but the seed of an idea is planted, alongside the beginnings of attraction between the pair.
They have plenty in common: both hail from hard-scrabble, blue-collar backgrounds; both are divorced with kids; both find a purpose in their love of performing. They are, to put it in suitably cheesy parlance, destined to make sweet, sweet music together, literally and romantically. Their first date is a jam session in her cramped living room, with Mike on guitar and Claire harmonising and accompanying on her decorated floral piano. The camera dances around them, buoyed by their electric connection. Then Claire’s sour, cantankerous mother bursts into the room, puncturing the joy of the moment and setting the pattern for the couple’s relationship and their creative partnership.
Their jubilant highs and unfeasibly hard knocks are told through liberal use of every Diamond song you can think of
They form a Neil Diamond tribute act called Lightning & Thunder; their jubilant highs and unfeasibly hard knocks are told through liberal use of musical montage and every Diamond song you can think of (and plenty more). Every time the couple are laid low – by freak car accidents, multiple heart attacks and mental health crises (the rollercoaster of doom starts to feel relentless) – they dust off their spangled costumes and pick themselves up again.
This is familiar territory for Brewer, who has been repeatedly drawn to artistic underdog and plucky amateur narratives. Hustle & Flow (2005), starring Terrence Howard, tells of a pimp following his dream of becoming a hip-hop emcee; Dolemite Is My Name (2019) is the wildly entertaining true story of Rudy Ray Moore, a struggling comedian turned blaxploitation movie legend exuberantly played by Eddie Murphy. If Song Sung Blue, adapted from a 2008 documentary of the same title, is less successful than its predecessors, it’s because Mike and Claire are less compelling central characters. It’s unfortunate that the most interesting thing about Lightning & Thunder is the litany of disasters that befalls them.
While the film is largely content to tread a safe path, it does at least feel full-hearted in its appreciation of the way music can connect lost souls and enrich lives. And Jackman and Hudson do their own singing throughout, with the latter particularly impressive: her husky voice carries scars, but also a warm, honey-drenched note of hope.
Photograph by AP