Boychoir * *

Francois Girard gave us Silk which is one of the lowest rating films of all time.  I think it lasted for a generous afternoon at most cinemas.  But he also gave us The Red Violin which is highly regarded. So we never know what is going to come from Franco. Boychoir sits in the middle. Neither hot nor cold. Not really good, but not all that bad.  Characters and situations are childishly exaggerated and highly unlikely. It’s rather like an old magazine story, but set today.

Stet, an angelic looking boy from Texas, has a dreadful home-life but he can sing.  Seeing that he spends most of his time surviving we don’t know how anyone discovered that (including himself), but a sympathetic teacher (Debra Winger) has noticed. After further tragedy in his life a begrudging, but obliged, patron (I won’t give the plot away) pays to have him shipped off to a boarding school that is dedicated to singing.  As you can imagine, most of the pupils are condescending spoilt brats.  But they do seem to be very enthusiastic and competitive about wearing blazers and ties and singing to old people. (The dream of every eleven year old boy, I’m sure). In fairness, for the sake of authenticity there are one or two scenes where they eat like pigs and scrap with each other. Fighting will result in expulsion actually.  Clearly this school has no understanding of eleven year old boys. They might as well expel them for farting.

Stet is reluctantly taken in by the school and the choir master (Dustin Hoffman) and teacher (Eddie Izzard) playing a horrid English snob.  Kathy Bates gets to play the no-nonsense principal more exasperated by her staff than her pupils, and the wheelchair boy from Glee (now walking) gets to play another teacher.  For some reason Stet decides to totally apply himself and predictably becomes the star pupil despite every obstacle put in his way. The music are pieces guaranteed to stir the emotions: Pie Jesu from Faure’s Requiem, Zadok The Priest, Hallelujah Chorus from Handel, so you never know if you are being moved by the music or the situation. I think its most likely the music, because everyone is so two dimensional and the majority of scenes are simplistic to the point of dramatic impotence.

As I say, it’s rather like a magazine story: easy to take in and easy to throw away afterwards.  It gives the readers (viewers) what they want.   Like all boys his voice will break, but I don’t think that really matters as the possibility of Boychoir II seems pretty unlikely to me, but these days you never know.