Unfinished song
Unfinished Song
The Toronto International Film Festival often chooses to end on a crowd-pleasing note; witness such past closing-night galas as The Stone of Destiny (Scottish nationalist hijinks) and The Young Victoria (British monarch in love).
Last year the festival wrapped with Song for Marion, since retitled Unfinished Song. A tuneful tearjerker that will have you tapping your feet and dabbing your eyes in equal measure, it succeeds in spite of being shamelessly by the numbers. If Mr. Holland’s Opus and the senior singers documentary Young@Heart had a baby, this would be it.
Terence Stamp stars as Arthur, one of those almost-lovable movie curmudgeons who just needs a sign on his back that says “please save me.” He’s the long-time husband of Marion (Vanessa Redgrave), a relentlessly upbeat lady who continues to participate in the local seniors’ choir even after learning that she has at best a few months to live. The more jovial she is, the more dour and complaining he becomes. It’s clear who wears the rants in this family.
The singers call themselves the OAPz, or Old Age Pensioners, with a zed for cred. Harmonious in more ways than one, they represent a kind, casually multicultural Britain, which is something of a relief after all the rough, soulless council estates we’ve seen in British films of the last decade, some of them even featuring Stamp.
The OAPz’s perpetually perky choirmaster is Elizabeth (Gemma Arterton), who convinces her elderly acolytes that their song list should include Love Shack by the B-52s, Motörhead’s Ace of Spades and Let’s Talk About Sex. “doesn’t mean you have to sing about it,” Arthur grouses when he hears that one.
It’s something of a mystery why Marion dotes on him so, but odder still is the reaction of Elizabeth. Never mind that he tells her and the group to “bugger off ” when they show up at Marion’s window one morning to serenade her with You Are the Sunshine of My Life. Or that his half-assed
If Young@Heart and Mr. Holland’s Opus had a baby, this would be it
apology (really more Quarter-assed) is delivered as though passing a gallstone. Or that she has more than a score of much friendlier old people to talk to. The formula demands that they become pals, and so bond they do.
Arthur also has a son (Christopher Eccleston) with whom he’s one argument away from total estrangement. Writer/director Paul Andrew Williams ( London to Brighton) gives them that and more, but if you can’t see the light at the end of their tunnel, you haven’t been watching enough movies.
The picture works as well as it does on the strength of the performers. Stamp in particular gives good grouch, but makes it clear he has a softer side buried in there somewhere. He may not want to be in the same room as his wife’s choir, but he’s often lurking within earshot, smoking a cigarette. And while I’ve never been a fan of the talking-to-your-dead-spouse-at-the-headstone scene, Stamp makes Arthur’s journey a believable one.
Besides, just because you can intuit where a song is going doesn’t mean it isn’t nice to listen to. And knowing it’s a sad one won’t necessarily stop it from bringing a tear to your eye.