Dustin Hoffman's performance hints at late-career sadness.
The wonderful choristers of the American Boychoir School (is "boychoir" even a word?) in Princeton, New Jersey, are the heart and soul of this production. But all the star power at the top of the bill cannot save a sentimental paint-by-numbers film.
That institution, which filed for bankruptcy earlier this
month, would have made a better documentary subject, but this schematic drama of a lost boy finding himself never flies.
You can almost hear the pieces slot into place in the screenplay by Ben Ripley, whose credits, which include films in the Source Code and Species franchises, do not bespeak the subtlety called for here.
Wareing plays Stet, a troubled Texan teenager with an angel's voice, whose alcoholic solo mother dies. The father he never knew materialises and tries to get rid of his past the only way he knows how: by pulling out his chequebook and buying his boy's way into the exclusive, but cash-strapped, school.
The choir is led by the perfectionist martinet Carvelle (Hoffman) and a deputy Drake (a hideously miscast Izzard), whose presence seems to be something of a running gag: "It must be a special kind of torture waiting for someone to retire," the school's harried headmistress-cum-business manager remarks. It's an unnecessary touch in a film full of them, saddled with big speeches like "You're giving them your voice, and that's as spiritual as it gets."
