Song One

Anybody with soft spot for music and sentimental lovestories will find 'Song One' difficult to resist. It follows Franny (Hathaway), her relationship with his estranged brother, and the unexpected romantic tale that blossomed between her and the musician James, Forester. No, this one's not new, we've seen countless others like this before, but in its own ways 'Song One' strikes a chord, strumming its own rhythm to make its charm carry a tune.

Yet the tune falls flat and runs off-key on moments when it's needed to speak volume for every scene's emotional sentiment. Albeit earnest and capable, the charm dispells, and what started as a haunting melody runs out of tone and tangibility. Whatever genuine sentiment 'Song One' holds in the beginning, or as a whole, the movie just falls behind extra-ordinary. You would admire Anne Hathaway as expected, but would look past her charm when drawn by the more evident flaws-- most noticeably her seemingly missing connection with Johnny Flynn, her character's love interest--pulling the tune off its proper rhythm.

'Song One', regardless of its emotional authenticity , stumbles upon its musical journey finding the right tune it could keep. It has beautiful beats and melodies to hum, but fails to turn them to something audible. It's neither terrible, nor excellent, just plain ordinary. 6/10

"Logically, when you talking' about folk music and blues, you find out it's music of just plain people." Brownie McGhee

Hardly-plain Anne Hathaway has a camera -ready head with a perfectly coiffed pixie and larger-than life lips. Good thing because Song One spends most of its 96 minutes caressing it while she moons over a folk singer. Yep, it's a romance but still not a bad one. Compared to John Carney's Once, however, it's a one note song. Considering it's writer-director Kate Barker-Froyland's debut film, it's a winner for her because of the promise it shows.

The Nicholas Sparks-like teary tropes are there: For instance, her folk singing brother, Henry (Ben Rosenfield), is in a coma while her mother (Mary Steenburgen) is eccentric and Franny (Hathaway) has been estranged from her and her brother . Enter heartthrob folksinger James Forester (Johnny Flynn), who sings sexy naturalistic songs and wins doctoral candidate Franny's heart.

The good part of this cliché is that the love grows organically, not swiftly or too cutely. Although his singing is seductive and his look shaggy handsome, he's playing down his charisma, and that angle makes Franny too low-key and mom almost hyper when she's not quite that.

Jenny Lewis and Jonathan Rice's music is sweet and longing, accessible for those not enamored of the folk genre. Unfortunately, the music is frequently melancholic to the extreme.

The film's strength is the organic growth of the romance and the organic neo-folk musical style that moves from street singing to full house concerts with equal grace. The weakness, however, is that nothing much else happens. For those who like authentic love stories, Song One can be first in their hearts while the rest of the audience can watch Walk the Line for some real musical drama.

"All music is folk music. I ain't never heard a horse sing a song." Louis Armstrong

I will keep this short and sweet, like the film. Im sad this movie has such low review, this movie wasn't exactly as I expected it to be but after watching it I realized it was exactly what it should be and that's what makes this movie special. This is a movie I will remember and gladly watch a second time. If you aren't sure about this film, I think it is worth a watch if not for any other reason than to kill time. It just might surprise you and leave you with the warm feeling it left with me. Although the reason why I gave it only nine stars is because the movie ended with a little more mystery than i would have liked, I like a film to ease me into the fact that such a beautiful story is ending. At the same time I'm torn, I like an ending that makes me wonder and keeps me on my toes as well.

I am quite amazed at the bad reviews. This is one of the most beautiful movies I have seen in some time. Incredibly well acted...exceptional music and performances. The sensibility of this film is so unique.Poetic in its delivery, it doesn't just hand you every emotion. You actually have to tap in and feel them for yourself. For me this movie does so effortlessly. Thank you for making this film. I bought it and will watch it often.

A pleasant if not especially memorable indie, Song One would have slipped completely under the radar and off the grid if not for Anne Hathaway, its star and producer. Hathaway's name alone - not to mention her singing chops, as demonstrated to Oscar-winning effect in Les Miserables - would have brought in audiences eager to hear her sing her heart and soul out again about the horrors of life and men. Here's the thing though: she doesn't sing (much), though her character does experience quite a few ups and downs where the men in her life are concerned. Instead, the film uses its frequent musical interludes to sketch out a sweet if rather underwhelming story of family, loss and connection.

Franny (Hathaway) is working on her thesis in Morocco when she receives a call from her weeping mother, Karen (Mary Steenburgen) - Henry (Ben Rosenfield), the little brother she barely understands and had stopped speaking to after a fight, is in a coma after a car accident. Returning home to take up a vigil at Henry's bedside, Franny tries to connect with her brother through the music and musicians he loves. As she retraces the path of her brother's life through tiny hole-in-the- wall clubs across New York City, she meets and finds herself drawing closer to James Forrester (Johnny Flynn), Henry's favourite indie musician.

You can't fault writer-director Kate Barker-Froyland for ambition. She blends three story lines, each capable of carrying its own film, into Song One - there's the heartwrenching family drama about how people must try to survive when death hovers nearby; a quirky romantic comedy about two unlikely souls finding each other; and a brooding treatise on the vagaries of the indie music industry. She mixes and mashes up the ideas and concepts reasonably well, as Henry's coma prompts his sister to explore a world composed of song and lyric - one in which she previously had no interest.

The first half of the film is grittier and grimmer in tone, buoyed by a pair of sad, weary and very truthful performances from Hathaway and Steenburgen - mother and daughter smarting at the thought of losing Henry, while pushing each other away with all the love in their hearts. The unexpected friendship that Franny develops with James also begins in a charmingly bittersweet fashion - he turns up out of the blue to strum his guitar at Henry's bedside, providing the soundtrack to Franny's desperate pleas for her brother to wake up.

But Song One unravels a little as it goes on. Gritty gives way to predictable, and it's hard to care as much when the family tragedy takes a backseat to the unfolding romance between Franny and James. This shift in focus isn't helped by the fact that Flynn, who possesses a good singing voice, is a slightly blank presence on screen - he's never outright bad, but it's hard to glean much of James' supposedly sensitive soul from his performance, forcing his words or music to do the job.

Speaking of the music: the score and original songs by indie rock duo Jenny & Johnny are amiable enough - they've evocative, in parts, but never so catchy as to be really memorable. The exceptions are Afraid Of Heights, a cute little improvised ditty that nicely sums up the relationship between Franny and James; Silver Song, a heartfelt number that ties itself in quite effective, heartbreaking fashion into the narrative; and Little Yellow Dress, which sports lyrics so strange that the song threatens to jolt viewers right out of the film.

Like the deeply earnest clutch of indie songs that form its soundtrack, Song One is a largely pleasant, if not entirely pleasing, experience. The film hints at depth and layers that don't quite bear up under scrutiny. At least Barker-Froyland doesn't descend completely into mawkish predictability in the final frames, instead bringing the film to a close on a sweetly tentative note that could hold as much grief as hope. It's an ending (or, perhaps, a beginning) that makes the entire journey worth it - almost.