Stream It or Skip It?

Watching Song Sung Blue (now streaming on VOD platforms like Amazon Prime Video) is akin to being bludgeoned by a 90-lb. slab of Velveeta. But remember, Velveeta can be delicious in the right recipe, i.e., a BOATS (Based On A True Story) movie starring Hugh Jackman and Kate Hudson that’s a tribute to a Neil Diamond tribute act. See, just reading that sentence renders you partially covered in freshly microwaved Cheeze Whiz. And if you’re partway there, you might as well finish the quasi-dairy drenching and watch director Craig Brewer’s (Hustle and Flow, Dolemite is my Name) big, broad, entertaining biopic (inspired by Greg Kohs’ 2008 documentary of the same title) which is as undeniable as the urge to BOM BOM BOM your way through the chorus of “Sweet Caroline” — and root for Hudson to score an Oscar nom.  

The Gist: It’s pronounced SUE-LAY-MONN, ya philistine. Of course, that “philistine” bit is my word, not Mike Sardina’s (Jackman) — he’s too nice a man, a Neil Diamond appreciator to rule them all who insists on leading off his “Neil Diamond experience” tribute show with a slow-burn album track, “Soolaimon,” instead of the infectious toothrotter that EVERYONE loves, “Sweet Caroline.” That kinda says it all about who Mike is, the can’t-help-but-love-’em quirks of his character. But we’re not at that point of his story yet. No, we meet him at an AA meeting. He’s 20 years sober today, using his grit-under-the-nails mechanic’s hands to strum a ditty for his friends sitting in the circle. It’ll be a monumental day for Mike, not just for that milestone, but because that evening, he’ll be at the Wisconsin State Fair, opting not to play “Pink Bubbles” at the big bluehair tribute concert — Don Ho? No! No! — and meeting Claire (Hudson) as she moseys her fringe and cowboy hat on stage to sing Patsy Cline’s “Sweet Dreams,” which serves to be ironic, considering they’ll soon start a band, and start mashing face.

I mean, the magnetism between these two. They’re like macaroni and cheese. Soap and water. Lightning and — well. Let’s not get too far ahead again. Mike’s tired of playing Elvis and whatnot on stage. He’s got a persona he calls Lightning, and his manager is his dentist, and his dentist fits him with a falsie with a little electricity bolt chiseled into it. Our man Lightning, a superman perhaps, doesn’t just appreciate Neil Diamond, he BELIEVES in him and his songs. He and Claire hit the county fair for some corn dogs and fries because funnel cakes would be a bit much, and before you know it, they’re working out the Neil covers in her wall-to-wall-wood-paneling living room. She GETS IT, man. She says they’re not just covering songs, but they’re “interpreters” of Neil’s tunes. Magic words right there. Magic words that’ll soon find Claire and Mike working out things under the covers, nudge nudge. Well, it’s implied, anyway. We have a PG-13 to uphold here.

And it only makes sense that they’d be Lightning and Thunder: A Neil Diamond Experience, which is a far better name than Mike’s first band, Positive Traction (which might’ve landed him a date with Marisa Tomei). They assemble a backing band, get a real manager who isn’t a dentist (OK, he’s a bus driver) (oh, and he’s played by Jim Belushi) and hit the casino circuit. They’re both divorcees — she raises teenager Rachel (Ella Anderson) and her younger brother Dayna (Hudson Hensley), and his teen daughter Angelina (King Princess) visits him once in a while. Claire and Mike get married and move in together and they’re really really doing it, winning over people in Milwaukee and Chicago clubs, Mike in a silk shirt with a wind machine blowing back his feathery Neil ’do, and Claire caressing the Yamaha keys and counterpointing with co-lead vocals. Sure, they put on a show that’ll win you over, but the fuel that keeps this lovable jalopy running is love. It’s in the air when they sing “Cracklin’ Rosie” and, of course, “Song Sung Blue.” Nothing can stop them! Except maybe that irrepressible character known as Life. For a minute, anyway. Life has a way of making things seem impossible. Like when Claire gets run over by a car on her front lawn.

What Movies Will It Remind You Of? Song Sung Blue dwells in a zone between biopics of famous musicians (A Complete Unknown was the only good one in recent memory; that Springsteen one was a dud) and jukebox musicals like Rock of Ages, a movie that I’d like to shoot into the sun.

Performance Worth Watching: Hudson’s look here is comparable to Jessica Chastain’s in The Eyes of Tammy Faye, but dialed down to about a 3, and her accent is 40 percent Fargo, because 41 would be one too much. And the joy and pain in her exquisitely modulated characterization of Claire “Thunder” Sardina gives true depth to a movie that might not be as emotionally resonant without her. All it takes is one line: “I was so close,” Claire utters in a moment of heartbreaking despair. Is this the beginning of the HUDSNAISSANCE? I hope so!

Sex And Skin: Eh. Nah. But there is one makeout bit where Mike works Claire right out of her No Nonsense pantyhose.

Our Take: Middle-aged Midwesterners in a totally mid movie? No way. Song Sung Blue will erode your cynicism like an elephant in a men’s room blasting away at a Porcelain Jonny-brand urinal cake. Brewer is keyed in tonally to Diamond’s songs – big, broad, a little silly, a lot sincere. The film is a cartoon musical melodrama bio based on real people, a formulation that seems impossible to conquer, but Brewer finds the sweet spot and hangs on tight. More than just an addiction drama, more than just a chase-your-dreams inspirational flick, more than just a comedy set on the farthest fringes of fame, it’s a just-find-your-happiness-wherever-it-may-be story that resists the urge to point and laugh at people who skew goofy, instead leavening them with irresistible earnestness within their big, beating hearts. 

Credit Brewer and his pair of high-watt stars for banning irony from the entire endeavor. Jackman and Hudson give highly enjoyable performances that they shrink down to when necessity dictates that tragedy be underscored with truth. They play Mike and Claire simply for who they are: People with big dreams, not-quite-as-big talents and some big problems. The economic realities of their lives render them underdogs; in one simple but neatly profound moment, Rachel laments that they live hardscrabble lives in which they have to routinely “patch up broken shit.” But the sweetness of this moment is, Mike – who she lovingly refers to as “Papa,” and yes you may awww – has helped teach her how to do some of the patching, and together they’ve nurtured affection for each other that quietly deepens our emotional involvement in this movie.

The film unapologetically indulges cliches and familiarity as it navigates the rollercoaster that is Claire and Mike’s life together, a reminder that cliches are often rooted in truth – and that song lyrics like Diamond’s are cubic zirconia on the page but are bold, sparkling gems when sung with a bold and earnest voice. Song Sung Blue’s sincerity is seductive. In many ways, I didn’t want the film to end. It’s terrific on its own terms. I wanted to spend more time with these people as they deal with their relatable middle-class problems and high-class passions. They’re good people, flawed and lovely. The crowds, they will be pleased. You should join them.

Our Call: Song Sung Blue perfectly channels the mega-cornball showbiz majesty of the hokemeister Diamond himself, who wrote and sang songs that transformed base emotions into grandiose gestures. STREAM IT.

John Serba is a freelance film critic from Grand Rapids, Michigan. Werner Herzog hugged him once.