How entertaining? ★★★★★
Thought provoking? ★★☆☆☆ 22 September 2013
This article is a review of SUNSHINE ON LEITH.
Seen at the Toronto International Film Festival 2013. (For more information, click here.)
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“As if my heart wasn’t breaking enough,” Rab (Peter Mullan)
Actor turned director Dexter Fletcher takes the songs of Scottish pop-folk duo The Proclaimers and turns them into a joyous heartstring pulling musical. Err, say that again?! You read that right. Building on a confident debut, WILD BILL, a pseudo-gangster-western set on a London council estate, Fletcher has grown in leaps and bounds. Out of nowhere he has fashioned a movie that can stand tall next to any of its modern rivals.
Opening on a helicopter flying over in the Middle East, British soldiers are seemingly ensconced in a transport convoy. Gunfire. Flash to white. Two months later, Scotland. Specifically Leith, on the outskirts of Edinburgh. Two best friends, Davy (George MacKay) and Ally (Kevin Guthrie), are home from service in Afghanistan. The return is a mixed bag of highs and lows. They have survived a tour in a conflict where their friends have not all made it out. To have such serious subject matter in a musical, essentially concerning romantic relationships, is a bold choice. There isn’t a delving into the politics of this war, but a reminder of the relativity of heartache. SUNSHINE ON LEITH quietly gives a sliding scale.
Actor turned director Dexter Fletcher takes the songs of Scottish pop-folk duo The Proclaimers and turns them into a joyous heartstring pulling musical. Err, say that again?! You read that right. Building on a confident debut, WILD BILL, a pseudo-gangster-western set on a London council estate, Fletcher has grown in leaps and bounds. Out of nowhere he has fashioned a movie that can stand tall next to any of its modern rivals.
Opening on a helicopter flying over in the Middle East, British soldiers are seemingly ensconced in a transport convoy. Gunfire. Flash to white. Two months later, Scotland. Specifically Leith, on the outskirts of Edinburgh. Two best friends, Davy (George MacKay) and Ally (Kevin Guthrie), are home from service in Afghanistan. The return is a mixed bag of highs and lows. They have survived a tour in a conflict where their friends have not all made it out. To have such serious subject matter in a musical, essentially concerning romantic relationships, is a bold choice. There isn’t a delving into the politics of this war, but a reminder of the relativity of heartache. SUNSHINE ON LEITH quietly gives a sliding scale.
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Davy’s welcome is rapturous from father Rab (Mullan), mother Jean (Jane Horrocks) and sister Liz (Freya Mavor); the latter is the girlfriend of Ally. A close-knit community of familial-romantic-collegiate relationships is quickly set-up. The two have arrived just in time to celebrate the 25th wedding anniversary of Rab and Jean. Settling down when young appears to be the desired, and the norm. Liz wastes no time in setting up her brother with fellow nurse Yvonne (Antonia Thomas). And the first toe-tapping routine begins in a pub. A hen-do is happening behind the double date of Davy-Yvonne-Ally-Liz. Matrimony is woven into the fabric of proceedings. ‘Over and Done With’ is sung with gusto by all patrons. And it brings a beaming smile to the face. A confined space is utilised so well. The best musicals have energy in spades and SUNSHINE ON LEITH is no different.
The main characters are all struggling with various issues:
- Rab had an affair at the beginning of what has turned out to be a wonderful marriage. His paramour has just died leaving a daughter he never knew he had.
- Jean is heartbroken on discovering and contemplates the disintegration of their union. A colleague, Harry (Jason Flemyng), has the hots for her.
- Ally has no decent family life and hopes Liz will provide the rock he so desperately needs.
- Liz is getting antsy in a small town, wanting to see the world.
- Davy has witnessed the toll on his soldier comrades and is suffering a mixture of guilt and perhaps a fear of the unknown.
- Yvonne, an English woman in a Scottish land is welcomed, but wonders if they will accept her own clan.
All the melodrama is percolated through artful lightening, a variety of locations, and sudden bursts into song that don’t feel clumsy in the transition. Mullan and Horrocks add their usual gravitas and class. The climatic dance choreography is wonderful. Who knew the music of The Proclaimers could be so fab? A romantic look at being wanted and depended upon.