Song One begins with musician Henry (Ben Rosenfield) getting into an accident. He falls into a coma, and his estranged sister Franny (Anne Hathaway) returns home to tend to him. She goes through his things as a means of exploring his life. She goes to see his favorite musician, James Forester (Johnny Flynn), and soon strikes up a relationship with him. The two go continue to go through the artifacts of Henry’s life, spending time with each other all the while knowing that James will eventually have to leave.
It is difficult to find anything within Song One to care about. It is a strangely miscalculated film that focuses on a romance made possible only by having a character fall into a coma. Though the story is ostensibly about discovering the details of the life of Henry, the character falls squarely into the background as the movie meanders in the twee elements of this new relationship. There is some value in the value found in its sense of time and place, the story taking place within a very particular scene. But a setting does not a movie make, and the film struggles to just find things for its characters to do.
The conceit here is that Franny is an anthropologist, and she is applying her training towards exploring the world in which her brother existed. And so she travels from bar to flea market to whatever other Brooklyn hangout her brother found fascinating. But she hardly participates, which makes the exploration of the world feel tentative and reductionist. The film invests all of her participation in the burgeoning romance with James, and that isn’t very interesting at all. The two share very little chemistry with each other, and it never really seems to mean much for either of them.
At best, the film’s setting at least provides interesting texture. This is a milieu that has a very distinct aesthetic, and what makes it on screen is kind of compelling. What doesn’t make it on screen is pretty notable, though. The film somewhat limits itself a very particular kind of musician in this scene, staying mostly with the solo singer-songwriters that strum away on their guitars in dark, quiet locations. The film doesn’t really capture the youthful energy of Brooklyn, and the strangeness that can still lie behind some of those doors. The film stays within a very gentrified space, veering away from the things that make its setting feel so vibrant.
Anne Hathaway is predictably excellent, though this just isn’t the best use of her talents. At times, it feels as though the film is really just a succession of scenes of Anne Hathaway looking at things with a sad face. Musician Johnny Flynn struggles as her romantic lead. He never really conveys the charisma that the character is meant to have. Perhaps it is a function of the songs as well, which kind of feel like an odd fit for him at times. Whatever the case, the two fail to make the romance feel like something worth caring about.
It tends to be a good thing for films to avoid melodrama, but Song One goes too far in the other way. In its refusal to create incident, it ends up feeling rather rudderless. It never really builds to any drama at all, the characters basically just hanging out for the duration of the movie, waiting for a guy to come out of his coma. As an absurdist exercise, that might have been interesting. But as an earnest romantic film, it’s mostly just a slog.
My Rating:
