The Choral

Before we start, I just want to say that I hate the title of this film. The choral what?? I don’t care if there are choir groups called ‘The Choral.’ I don’t care if it’s an affectionate nickname for something that’s really called ‘The Choral Society.’ ‘The Choral’ is a horrible non grammatical film title that’s lacking a subject and it makes me cross. There.

Release date: 7 November 2025 (UK)

Director: Nicholas Hytner

Starring: Ralph Fiennes; Roger Allam; Mark Addy; Alun Armstrong; Robert Emms; Simon Russell Beale

Screenplay: Alan Bennett

Running time: 1h 53m

Distributed by: Sony Pictures Classics

Now that’s out of the way, I would like to further say that I was not looking forward to this film. The trailer, which we have been seeing now for weeks, screams twee. It screams ‘gentle British feel good lightly comic with occasional bursts of tragedy that have a very very soft landing and it’s all alright in the end despite the horrible horrible war, it’ll all be over by Christmas.’ There’s even a line where someone says ‘it’s this flamin’ war’ with a sort of sad little disappointed sigh, as though they’re Mary Berry diagnosing an unexpected soggy bottom, rather than the full blown horror and carnage that was World War I.

I was, however, quite wrong, because this film isn’t twee at all.

It’s so much worse than that.

Bearing in mind one of the themes of this film is a lack of men for this choir

I’ve had a week or so to think about it (because as trailed in last week’s review I’m very behind) and I still feel quite cross about this one. I think what’s happening is the film company are aiming for a nice feel good classic British twee film - which I’m all for if done full throatily - but are also determined to add some edge. Which is achieved by making most of the characters Absolutely Awful.

The warning signs are there immediately, as we encounter a terrible guy who prowls around his quaint northern village saying sexually aggressive things to every woman he encounters. How CUTE! We also meet Ralph Fiennes’ choir master, who thinks an awful lot of himself and confidently walks into a room full of traumatised war widows and speaks to them in German. How PROGRESSIVE. None of these people are nice, and it all culminates in a fabled boyfriend’s return from the war with only one arm, only to be immediately coldly dumped by his girlfriend, only to then emotionally manipulate her into sexual acts that make both of them cry. How ADORABLE.

A Very Mean Man

Men and their need for sex is a major theme - towards the end, the hapless trio which includes the sex pest all go about trying to shag someone on the eve of being called up. One of them - in a scene I found more excruciatingly uncomfortable than last week’s chemical castration - goes so far as to strip naked in front of the woman he fancies in her own living room and demand she look at ‘all of me’, which I confidently believe to be a sex crime. I think we’re meant to feel compassion for him, because he’s about to be sent to fight, and whilst yes, that’s horrendous - SAY IT WITH ME NOW - you are not entitled to sex because your life is in peril. There’s a sentence I didn’t think I’d type in a baby cinema review.

Leaving aside all this - let’s address the plot. To sum up: there’s a choir. It’s depleted because of this flamin’ war. They want to put on a performance but they can’t sing anything German, because of this flamin’ war. Their choir master is unavailable because of this flamin’ war, so they’re stuck with Ralf Fiennes, who is Morose because of this ‘flamin’ war, but also deeply, slightly psychotically committed to the project. (It’s heavily implied that he has a boyfriend in the German army but the film is nowhere near brave enough to address that theme properly.) They end up picking Elgar, who randomly turns up to the performance and is outraged to discover they’ve completely messed with his composition. (An inevitable Simon Russell Beale cameo - is he our first baby cinema repeat actor??) Along the way, poor old Roger Allam is sacked as the lead male singer in favour of the one armed soldier, who is a much better singer.

Justice for Elgar

As someone who’s spent a lot of time in the world of am dram: none of this is cute and twee. How dare Ralph Fiennes be so mean and demanding of his voluntary choir? It’s meant to be fun! How dare he sack Roger Allam when a better option comes along - this is not in the spirit of community theatre! How dare they assume an in copyright piece is fair game for a total rewrite, and then have the nerve to be indignant when poor old Elgar raises objections! I presume, given the tone with which this happens, that the makers of this film will be completely comfortable with my in progress rewrite of ‘The Choral’ entitled ‘The Starting Solids’, featuring a cast of 6 month olds navigating various pureed vegetables whilst furiously weeing everywhere. I’ve stayed true to the spirit of the original piece.

Justice for this one armed man

Rereading the above, I’m clearly in a Bad Mood which can perhaps be explained by the fact that we’re encountering the dreaded ‘sleep regression’. Having confidently declared the baby to be a brilliant sleeper, and expressed loving sympathy for all those who are suffering, I’m now right there with them, laughing at my former self’s wide eyed optimism. It’s a phase, I am repeating like a deranged mantra. It’s all a phase.

So, apologies for this big old rant. This may well be a lovely film, full of lovely people and a nice gentle plot. Perhaps in a few years I’ll watch it again and find something entirely different, with the benefit of a bit of sleep and some properly balanced hormones. But for now, I’ve enjoyed this big old rant, and I’m enthuasiastically looking forward to to next week’s (ok, tomorrow’s) offering, which includes in the warning labels ‘contains images of real dead bodies.’ Lovely stuff.

Good things: Admittedly a great cast. I kept expecting Penelope Wilton to turn up, and the promise of her kept me going, even though she never did.

Bad things: the one armed sad wank is a real low point.

My review: Justice for Elgar. Justice for amdram.

Lily’s review: 0 poos, I’m really beginning to doubt the system now

Next week (ok, this week): Nuremberg. Bring. It On.