The true story of husband-and-wife Neil Diamond tribute band “Lightning and Thunder” is told in Craig Brewer’s frustrating generic biopic Song Sung Blue.
Song Sung Blue will be your aunt’s favorite movie this holiday season. She’ll call it sweet and touching; harp on the characters’ connections, say “it’s cute”, and love the Neil Diamond songs. And that’s fine. We all like what we like. This Strawman Aunt will love Song Sung Blue. I didn’t.
Now, I’ve not seen the 2008 documentary of the same title by Greg Kohls. I don’t know what’s exactly true, what’s altered for cinema storytelling, what’s amalgamated, and what’s straight up false in this story of a pair of Neil Diamond tribute artists, known as “Lighting and Thunder” on stage and Mike and Clair Sadina in real life. But I’m curious if the real story is as formulaic, simple, and blandly grating as Brewer’s film.
It’s fine. I didn’t hate it, don’t get me wrong. But I sure didn’t like it. Cloying, sentimental, and schmaltzy, Song Sung Blue is so blandly intoned it’s frustrating. It’s a movie about a tribute band, so it’s fitting it feels like a tribute to a movie: it hits all the expected notes of the genre/artist without changing a moment, going through the oft-performed beats because that’s exactly what the target audience wants to see. Is that too easy, too low-hanging fruit? Eh, the movie goes there, so I will, too.
Kate Hudson and Hugh Jackman make the movie watchable and, dare I say, enjoyable enough. They drive the movie through the melodramatic slush. They both give committed performances as the couple of Mike and Claire. They are never truly believable, Jackman being Jackman and Hudson going deep into Wisconsin Housewife accent territory, dontchaknow; they sometimes feel, to use a comment a second time, like tribute instead of the characters. But they have real chemistry and charm, and it goes a long way. You can’t help but love them. The remainder of the cast is fine, too. The step-daughters (each of the blended family comes with one) played by Ella Anderson and King Princess have an ease. Jim Belushi follows Hudson into Accent City; he’s having fun. I always love to see Fisher Stevens.
It’s so weirdly on the nose as they go through the rise, troubles, and fall. It’s the music biopic structure to a tee. Scenes are loaded with exposition and such direct phrasings. (Looking at your first time the daughters meet; that was a hugely awkward backstory and trauma dropping). Strong feelings are discussed and felt, bad things happen, and people stumble. But it’s all just as expected; where it should happen in the movie, and how we’ve seen a hundred times; every beat is just as expected as a group of drunken White middle-aged bar patrons screaming “BA BA BA” during the chorus of Sweet Caroline during karaoke. Speaking of, every now and then the movie stops to perform a Neil Diamond song, sometimes a snippet to jazz (singer… heh, now there’s a truly awful Neil Diamond movie) the audience up with a “oh hey I know this” moment, and just as often the full song, reading the theatre for “under the breath karaoke.”
Song Sung Blue is so seriously sincere it hurts, never betraying the tropes it’s trotting out. It’s a weird disconnect to the artist tributed. I fully admit I really dig Neil Diamond. He has a great voice, and his songs have a beautiful flow. They are catchy and carry a certain something. Diamond’s music has a certain self-aware cheesiness of glam and glamour. An aspect not found in the film at all. All the schlamtz found in Song Sung Blue is unnecessary, unlike Diamond’s work.
I said earlier that the movie is blandly inoffensive. That’s not completely true. I took a grumbling grudge of a dash of offensiveness in how glibly some dramatic subjects are treated. Did you know you can get over depression, disability, and poverty by pure grit and positive thinking? The movie sure says so. It’s the movie version of someone saying, “You’re depressed? Have you tried taking a walk every day?” Things that are big, real, troubles; the highs and lows of lives are nearly handwaved. Every issue just needs enough positive energy and push. But we don’t watch that sort of movie to be depressed and be real, even with a true story. 
Part of me thinks I’m being too mean to the movie. It’s well-meaning, there is no cynicism within the trite, and there is a certain something there. It has a spark that can’t be denied. Maybe we need a bland cover here and there; the familiar with a few bars of a familiar song to sing along to. If we can sing to I’m A Believer forty times, why not a well-trod film? I am annoyed at the ease with which the troubles are solved, but I can watch If I had Legs, I’d Kick You if I want a better look at depression. I can watch this with my family if I want to smile and sing A Beautiful Noise and see a story of redemption and positive pushes among the grey.
So, yeah, this write-up is a bit all over the place. So is the movie. And so is life. In this holiday season, it’s not my highest recommendation; I’d put just about everything else out there above it. But for what it is, if it becomes the 2nd choice of everyone, the Applebee’s of this holiday season, try to enjoy.
BAH BAH BAH, good times never felt so bland.
[Btw, I cannot get the title song out of my head. HELP ME]