The Choral, 2025.
Directed by Nicholas Hytner.
Starring Ralph Fiennes, Roger Allam, Amara Okereke, Simon Russell Beale and Thomas Howes.
SYNOPSIS:
A choral society’s male members enlist in World War I, leaving the demanding Dr. Guthrie to recruit teenagers. Together, they experience the joy of singing while the young boys grapple with their impending conscription into the army.
The Choral is director Nicholas Hytner’s fourth cinematic collaboration with veteran playwright and screenwriter Alan Bennett, following The Madness of King George, The History Boys and The Lady in the Van, all of which were adapted from Bennett’s own stage plays. This new outing, however, is a brand-new work written specifically for the big-screen, making it Bennett’s first original screenplay for decades.
Set during the First World War, the film centres on the struggling choral society of a small Yorkshire village, devoid of male voices with so many locals having been called up to fight. Ralph Fiennes plays Dr. Guthrie, a talented choirmaster brought in to help its remaining members – along with some unlikely new recruits – prepare for their annual performance together.
On the surface, The Choral is a typical British comfort watch, designed to be watched over a cup of tea on a Sunday afternoon with your family, and to warm your soul with its proud British celebration of courage, resilience and community at a time of such sadness and fear.
For the most part, that’s precisely what it is, and there’s really nothing wrong with that. There tends to be a snobbery around films such as this, but there’s a place for them, and a reason why they work. A feel-good story not only makes for a pleasant watch, but provides an increasingly negative world with a much-needed dose of positivity and joy.
But there’s more to The Choral than first appears. The film’s best moments actually come from its quiet moments of reflection, be it wounded soldier Clyde returning home to find his girlfriend Bella has already moved on, choir pianist Horner being judged for trying to enlist as a conscientious-objector, or Guthrie learning of his German lover’s death just as the choir celebrates the sinking of the very ship he was stationed on.
Guthrie is a controversial presence in the village, an atheist who proudly spent time in Germany with some of Europe’s finest musicians, his love of the arts showing no borders. He has no interest in overt patriotism (amusingly illustrated in his eye-rolling reaction to the choir’s performance of the national anthem), and his homosexuality is also heavily implied. Despite the film’s inherent Britishness, it doesn’t look down upon Guthrie’s views, but instead understands and sympathises with them. We’re presented with a view of the conflict that is anything but black-and-white, even among residents of the same small village in England.
This is a film not about the war itself, but the people back home; those that were left behind, faced with the task of living as normal and turning a blind eye to their fears. Teenage boys Lofty and Ellis are perhaps the most interesting here, continuing to live their lives as they simply wait to come of age and be sent to the frontline themselves. They provide plenty of charming moments, most notably when young Lofty loses his virginity the night before he leaves home, in a scene that is equal parts humorous and touching.
With its rather plain aesthetic and forgettable score from George Fenton, The Choral isn’t the most cinematic of films. The ensemble cast do a lot of the heavy lifting here; a mixture of talented newcomers (Jacob Dudman is outstanding as Clyde) and experienced pros (Roger Allam, Mark Addy and Alun Armstrong could play these roles in their sleep). Guthrie isn’t the most challenging of roles for Fiennes, but his understated performance suits the character perfectly and he adds a welcome touch of reality to a cast filled with eccentrics.
The Choral isn’t breaking boundaries. It perhaps doesn’t produce the tears it intends to, or the triumphant final performance that it’s clearly striving for, but it’s a poignant, hopeful and, at times, genuinely funny and enjoyable film about the power of community, kindness, and even art itself.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Dan Barnes
