Preaching to the choir
THIS perky docu-concert chronicle of a recent tour by the young cast of the TV smash hit is strictly a fansonly affair.
Considering the galaxy-wide popularity of the embrace-your-innerstar phenomenon, there is no real need to win over new recruits.
So the Gleek army will be more than happy to march upon cinemas for the duration of this slick flick’s two-week limited run ( after which it will only be a few sleeps until the DVD hits stores).
If you’ve ever seen other similar productions mounted around the likes of Justin Bieber, Hannah Montana and The Jonas Brothers, you’ll recognise the rigid format in play here.
A couple of killer numbers are chained together ( Puck points his gee-tar at some Fat Blaine and The Warblers give it some barbershop on Rachel reigns supreme on
Then we cut to some hardcore tragics outside the stadium – or maybe at home – to tell us what it’s like to be living in Glee land 24/ 7. And on and on it goes. Gwyneth Paltrow drops by to do her Holly Holliday thing. The dude in the wheelchair does the Safety Dance.
Santana and Mercedes turn up the heat with a blitzing vocal duel on
Quinn and Sam turn up the air-con with a cool, plinky little rendition of And on and on it goes. Everyone stays in character, which is kinda creepy after a while. Everything bar the lead vocals sounds like over-produced karaoke.
And the saving grace for nonGleeks everywhere, super-sad-sack Sue Sylvester ( Jane Lynch), is nowhere to be seen.