Song Sung Blue
It would be hard, for me at least, not to like Song Sung Blue, a jukebox musical about love and family set against the backdrop of working-class show business. It’s based on the true story of Mike and Claire Sardina, small-potatoes entertainers who launched a Neil Diamond tribute act together they called Lightning & Thunder in Milwaukee in the ’90s. Charismatic performers, they built their own regional following, eventually packing houses, playing state fairs and even, weirdly, opening for Pearl Jam.
They also fell in love and got married, and blended their families. They still struggled financially, especially after some freak misfortunes, but managed to carry on even through health troubles and other family challenges.
Written and directed by Craig Brewer and based on a 2008 documentary of the same title by Greg Kohs, the movie stars Hugh Jackman as Mike and Kate Hudson as Claire. He’s a Vietnam vet and recovering addict who “interprets” Neil Diamond at his 12-step meetings; she’s a Patsy Cline impersonator with two kids. Lightning strikes, so to speak, when they start working on songs together.
Jackman is terrific in a role that seems tailor-made for him. I don’t know about the real Mike Sardina, but Jackman’s earnest intensity when he slips into the Diamond numbers would be comical if he wasn’t so good, so dynamic in his own right. It’s still a little comical, in spite of how good he is, but it’s also captivating, even thrilling. And it’s in this sense that he’s most akin to the great Diamond, whose unapologetic, unironic, solemn self-confidence can sometimes border on campiness at the same time it remains entirely justified.
Excellent and lovable as Jackman is, however, he’s shown up by his leading lady. I’ve never had very strong feelings, one way or another, about Kate Hudson; she was very good in Almost Famous but otherwise has mostly seemed like a cute, capable romcom leading lady. Sporting a beguiling Wisconsin accent, she shines in Song Sung Blue. Her Claire’s delight in Mike and in the music they create together comes out of her radiantly, and infectiously. When her joy is compromised, it’s truly sad.
The supporting cast includes nice turns by Michael Imperioli as a Buddy Holly impersonator friend of Mike’s and Fisher Stevens and Jim Belushi among the act’s management. Ella Anderson, Hudson Hensley and King Princess are appealing as the kids, and I liked the way the two daughters bonded almost immediately.
Brewer’s pacing is a little poky, perhaps, but this helps to create the sense of time spent together, and to develop the characters. The movie touches on how people manage when living paycheck to paycheck, and how health issues get pushed down the priority list. Sometimes this isn’t even for financial reasons; more than once in the movie, Mike, faced with his own serious affliction, presses on in defiance of it. When he does, there’s always a career glory that he regards as greater than his own life at stake.
Anaconda
Small-time showbiz is also the backdrop for the imbecilic but not unfunny spoof Anaconda. Down-on-his-luck L.A. actor Paul Rudd goes home to Buffalo and hangs out with the childhood buddies with whom he used to make movies in the neighborhood: director Jack Black, who now makes overambitious wedding videos; cameraman Steve Zahn; and gorgeous leading lady Thandiwe Newton.
Rudd drops a bombshell one day at lunch when he tells his friends he’s acquired the rights to Anaconda, Luis Llosa’s 1997 horror flick they loved back in the day. Remember it? Jennfer Lopez, Ice Cube, Eric Stoltz and Jon Voight, among others, are besieged on a river boat in South America by an enormous, handsome specimen of the title snake. Soon enough, Rudd, Black and pals are in the jungle, shooting a reboot or reimagining or homage or some such term, guerilla-style, on a shoestring.
They’re using a real snake (not really), with an addled “handler” (Selton Mello) who doesn’t inspire much confidence. Unbeknownst to the filmmakers, their riverboat has been hijacked by a mystery woman (Daniela Melchior) who in turn is being stalked by scary-looking armed dudes.
What ensues, directed by Tom Gormican from a script he co-wrote with Kevin Etten, is some of the broadest, silliest slapstick and gross-out comedy I’ve seen in a while; this movie makes the Hangover flicks look like Oscar Wilde. But these actors, particularly the always game and personable Rudd, passionately commit to the stupidity, and this Anaconda may strike an emotional chord with certain audience members. Me, for instance.
Like many, many kids, I made Super 8 movies with my friends during my high school years – just a couple of hours west of Buffalo, as it happens. And I also have fond memories of Anaconda, which I saw at a screening (with Tony Ortega, then my colleague at Phoenix New Times; now one of the more prominent journalists keeping an eye on Scientology). It was one of the first times I can recall, after the astonishment of Jurassic Park, seeing highly unconvincing CGI special effects – albeit mixed with better practical puppetry.
But this weakness was gratifyingly offset by the humanity of the actors, especially Voight, who puts on a master class in over-the-top hamming, and gets a splendid final flourish. It’s probably the last truly great performance he’s given.
Affection for that absurd movie is understandable, and this new Anaconda’s love of movies, and of the bond they create among viewers, is exhilarating.
