The pairing of Alan Bennett and Nicholas Hytner is an established one. Hytner has previously directed the screen adaptions of
The Madness Of King George, The History Boys and
The Lady In The Van (also producing the latter two, as he does with
The Choral). I had an idea what to expect.
Firstly, the North Yorkshire scenery is gorgeous and filmed well. There's lots of golden sunshine to add to the warmth of the film. The music enhances things further. How funny that I've so recently begun (re)watching
Bergerac, with its gorgeous theme by George Fenton and here I am watching a film he's scored four and a half decades on and with a distinguished career behind him. In a way I didn't notice the score, but this is a huge compliment. It just fitted in so well not just with the events onscreen but with the diegetic classical pieces. I also had no idea this was going to be so Elgar-heavy, and it's no bad thing (Edward Elgar himself is a character in the film, bizarrely played as a rotund old man even though he would have barely been into his Twenties at this time).
It's mostly good news with the cast. The key roles are very well cast with a real gravitas from actors like Ralph Fiennes, Alun Armstrong and Roger Allam paired up with a cheeky kind of charm from some of the younger actors. It's not perfect in its casting, though. Actors in some of the much smaller parts struggle to conceal some of the more ungainly dialogue. This, unfortunately, was evident in the earliest scenes when the first woman received the news of (presumably) her husband's death but struggled to convey what she needed to with the very brief screen time and less than sparkling dialogue (Child: "Who's [the telegram] from"? Woman: "The King" End scene).
Two of the clunkiest scenes were the hospital visit, (Brusque Nurse: "These men are ill. Why should they want to sing? They don't have the energy. Can any of you patients sing?" All the men on the ward: "Yes please") and the court-martial which is perhaps my least favourite of the entire film because of the failed potential. The casting and lack of gravitas of the left-handed captain (a left-hander educated in Victorian England!) and the Thatcheresque woman who claimed she would love to go to the front made the delivery rather one-note exposing, any lack of punch in the writing in the process. This undermined an important scene, and one that could - and should - have been among its most powerful. Fortunately, Ralph Fiennes and Roger Allem's deeper, more nuanced readings really deliver in this scene, which saves it.
With films like this, I wish at times I wasn't so hyper-vigilant when it comes to anachronisms (potential or actual).
I spotted a number in speech patterns, pronunciations and delivery. One borderline offender was the pronunciation of "patriotic", where everyone rhymed the first syllable with "day". I don't know if this is retroactive grey squirrelling or simply how it
would have be said in working class Yorkshire, even in the early 20th Century. For my sanity I opted for the latter.
Others were more difficult to overlook, with the poor gay pianist the worst offender on the basis that the character was southern and evidently university educated. His very contemporary RP/Standard Southern British accent - with its abundant T-dropping and use of contractions - simply did not exist in this form 110 years ago and so was very jarring. He sounded like generic London Millennial talking loudly over his flat white with oat milk in 2025 (close your eyes and he's Tom Hiddleston).
There were also anachronisms, too, in cultural attitudes. Bearing in mind that the film is set in a Northern industrial village in 1916, the elephant in the room was attitudes towards race. Mary, one of the only black people in the village, is welcomed into the choir, given a lead role in the production and develops romantic feelings for a young white man which are actively encouraged by everyone from his friends to her friends to her mother. In fact, I don't believe her colour is mentioned once during the entire film. The only "big obstacle" to their relationship is her affiliation with the Salvation Army. It's lovely to think this is the way life was - and perhaps it's accurate of some experiences - but at a time when there were relatively few non-white faces in the country I'm just not sure that societal attitudes were quite so inclusive. It's curious for a film that openly addresses anti-Germanic and homophobic bigotry to drop the ball here, so I can only assume the character wasn't written as specifically black. If so, it's an example of why colour-blind casting can be problematic when it comes to period films. The end result dilutes the overall tone and the film becomes less a reflection of how things were and more a vision of how we wish things had been. The story was already pushing things with the inclusion of the gay choirmaster, but at least that was addressed in passing. I feel not acknowledging this potential challenge actually did the characters a disservice.
One other minor disappointment was finding that a number of the lead actors had singing voices dubbed by other actors. Watching without knowing this it was fine, and I was impressed by the multi-talented cast. Learning the truth this morning, I feel duped. I'd have preferred they cast this theatrically as it shouldn't be
that difficult to find actors who can sing (or singers who can act) to provide the most authentic experience.
Still, imperfect as it is, this is a very watchable film that's going to please most.
I appreciated the unapologetically mercenary attitudes that wartime brought. It's established in an early scene where a delivery boy knocks doors with news of loved ones' deaths ("Sorry Missus") while his friend hangs round a couple of doors down for them to pick up their conversations ("You could have been in with that one", says the friend after one bereaved widow embraces the delivery boy. He goes on to say that grief is an aphrodisiac). There's also the morally questionable character whose loved one is missing, presumed dead, but who is - in 21st Century parlance - damned thirsty and spends her time flirting with men (at one point she expresses her wish to get the news that her boyfriend is dead so that the men would reciprocate and be less respectful). And that's the tip of the iceberg with that one. I'm not sure if the village sex worker is specifically a wartime thing. None of the women are away, so presumably men were using her services beforehand, but she does get the young man about to go to war who doesn't want to die a virgin, which kind of makes sense.
Its message is a good one, and the humour is gentle-but-effective. I particularly enjoyed the running gag of everyone gasping in collective shock whenever Fiennes's choirmaster spoke in German.
I've just checked out Mark Kermode's review to see how his experience compared with mine (spoiler: similarly) and he sums it up perfectly as "Goes down well with a cup of tea and a biscuit on a Wednesday afternoon Missus."
