Directed by Kevin Tancharoen. Starring Dianna Agron, Chris Colfer, Darren Criss, Ashley Fink, Kevin McHale, Lea Michele, Cory Monteith, Heather Morris, Chord Overstreet, Amber Riley, Naya Rivera, Mark Salling, Harry Shum Jr, Jenna Ushkowitz 84mins, general release, Cert PG
IN 2011, only two films have opened Stateside on more than 2,000 screens and failed to crack the US top 10; the first was the half-arsed Take Me Home Tonight; the second arrives courtesy of the once sensational pop franchise, Glee.
The lacklustre returns are proof, were it needed, that there’s only so much to be made behind the curve.
Following more timely ventures from Hannah Montana, the Jonas Brothers and Justin Bieber, this latest 3D extravaganza is nothing of the sort. The concert film, like heritage tours and greatest hits retirement packages, is no longer in the business of peddling unique renditions or material suited to cult bootlegs. Rather, the subgenre has become homogenised and polished to better foreground its sleek worth as art in the age of mechanical reproduction.
Here, digital marvels and 3D are employed only in the immersive sense; songs are delivered with karaoke fidelity; performers get live and dangerous in the studio. Happily, the tardiness of Glee's cinema debut has not put a dent in Gleek enthusiasm. Between best beloved hits and in-character backstage chatter, fans form a makeshift revival tent.
Josey, a lively girl with Asperger syndrome who swears she couldnt leave the house until her Brittany Susan Pierce fixation inspired her to get out there and meet other cover version collectors. Meet Janae Meraz, a cheerleading dwarf who has a dreamboat jock on her arm and a shot at prom queen thanks to the seismic post- Gleesocial revolution.
Its a lie, of course. Gleetrumpets the reclamation of the word "loser" as a badge of honour yet employs pretty, nubile, exquisitely talented young things to make us all feel better about ourselves.
But, for all its hypocrisies, it’s hard to take up arms against a franchise that pleads for tolerance, encourages song and allows Trenton, a gay teen Gleek who talks on camera about the day his journal of boy crushes was passed around the school corridor, feel a little better about himself.
Elsewhere, Rachel belts out a grande dame rendition of
Rain on My ParadeBarbara Streisand would be proud of. But Gwyneth Paltrow's unseen Pilates instructor provides the film's most dazzling performance. You'll know why.
