Song One

This film tells the story of a woman whose musician brother got hit by a car and became comatose. In the process of grieving, she becomes more than friends with the brother's favourite singer.

The Chinese title of this film in Hong Kong is "New York Love Chords", so I would be excused to think it's a romantic comedy involving music. The film turns or to be a sombre offering, with Anne Hathaway and Johnny Flynn saying sorry for each other on numerous occasions. The pace is slow, and nothing happens in the film. Anne Hathaway is quite good in the film, but I'm quite surprised by Johnny Flynn's portrayal of a very shy, bordering on socially awkward musician. Not only does his character appear lacking in confidence, he could not even hold eye contact with the person he's talking to. I can't believe he's the same charismatic guy in "Clouds of Sils Maria" that I watched just two days ago.

"Song One" turns out to be a great bore. I wish I didn't bother watching it.

Looking through the reviews, I was initially hesitant thinking that I would not like this movie. However, I always enjoyed Anna Hathaway's acting and decided to give it a gamble. I was not disappointed.

The music in this movie was just amazing. The romance between the main characters just gives that subtle warm feeling in your heart. Though the ending was a little abrupt, I have already realised that it seems to be a common recurring theme amongst highly rated films so I'm not too picky about that.

Overall, if you just want a movie to watch, not overly emotional but gives that subtle warm feeling when the credits roll, perhaps you might want to give this movie a try.

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.

Greetings again from the darkness. Fresh off her Oscar winning performance and infamous on screen haircut in Les Miserables, Anne Hathaway stars in this infinitely smaller film from writer/director Kate Barker-Froyland. A Sundance Film Festival entry, the movie winds through the clubs, coffee shops and second hand stores that make up the indie music scene in northern Brooklyn.

Ben Rosenfield ("Boardwalk Empire") plays Henry, the kind of musician so enamored with his own folk sound that he is willing to play for pocket change in the subway tunnels. Failing to adhere to mother rule #1, Henry pays the price for not looking both ways prior to crossing a street in front of a New York cabbie. Next thing we know, he is comatose in a hospital bed. Henry's mom (Mary Steenburgen) beckons wayward daughter Franny (Anne Hathaway) home from her worldly pursuit of a Ph.d in Anthropology.

When last they spoke Franny and brother Henry had one of those nasty sibling fights where angry words were spoken and no apology followed. It's been six months and now a guilt-ridden Franny sits by his hospital bed hoping for a shot at redemption. She soon discovers Henry's journal and begins re-tracing his favorite hang-outs and bands. This journey leads her to a meeting with Henry's musical idol James Forester (played by Johnny Flynn). Lacking suspense, the story leads right where one would expect – James and Franny taking a liking to each other, Franny discovers her own love for music, and the songwriting block that has burdened James slowly breaks down.

The film is at its best in the musical moments. Flynn is a very talented guy as a musician (not so much as an actor), and 5 or 6 live musical acts make appearances as the story unfolds. Most of the quiet scenes between Hathaway and Flynn seem a bit awkward, but not awkward in the good way that leads to real romance. Connection and re-connection are quite common in times of tragedy, as we are at our most emotionally vulnerable state. The biggest issue here is that everything develops just as we would expect … no surprises, no twists. Even the re-connection of Franny and her mother is a sweet scene where Franny sings along to America's "I Need You".

Jenny Lewis (of Rilo Kiley fame) and Jonathan Rice co-wrote the original songs used in the film, and as stated, a hand full of other bands perform their own material. For a musically based romantic drama, it does have a couple of really nice scenes, but for the most part, the drama and romance lag the music.

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.