I
love to sing. The only difference between me and the millions of others who
have uttered this same sentence is that I'm awesome at it. I can sing any time, any place, and in
any style. It's something I grew
up doing and it's something I will continue to do until the day I die. This is just one of the many reasons I
thought Joyful Noise sucked.
Set in a quiet Georgia town, the
story centers around a choir who is now led by Vi Rose Hill (Latifah) after
their former director Bernard dies. Bernard's wife, G.G., (Parton) wanted the
job but instead settles for singing terrible renditions of pop songs with a much-unneeded
theological twist. G.G.'s grandson (Jordan) comes to town just in time to give
the choir the energy boost it desperately needs, and of course falls for Vi
Rose's daughter in the process.
Did I mention that this storyline was laced with cliché?
The film continues with the choir
gearing up for the "˜prestigious' Joyful Noise contest, and in the meantime,
they each "grow" into new people, discovering they can actually handle change.
As a singer with plenty of
recording experience I know the difference between doctored, auto-tuned
nightmares and live sound. There
was absolutely no reason that the two women who can actually sing needed to be so
blatantly pitch-corrected. It is rather annoying watching a scene set in a
small church with a supposed live choir and band, but hearing already mixed and
mastered sound, auto-tuned soloists, fake drums, and a choir that sounds more
like the vocal setting on a Casio keyboard. The bad music was the tip of the iceberg.
The performances were flat, but
let's be honest, there is not an actor alive who could have made that dialogue
bearable or believable. Dolly Parton's character spoke almost entirely in old
southern adages. Queen Latifah is
more of an abusive parent and terror to the town than she is a spiritual leader. And let's not forget about the
teenagers, who were all portrayed as nothing more than horny idiots with
nothing better to do than whine about mundane bullshit. The only exception is
Walter, Vi Rose's son, played by Dexter Darden. He is a sweet and loveable character,
supposedly a sufferer of Asperger's, but judging by the description the
characters give, the writers have no idea what that syndrome's symptoms
actually are.
The whole plot finally dwindles
down to the final moment, which is of course, the competition. It was a wild
spectacle full of wild moments, including an instance where we hear a group
speak in tongues, (no seriously, that happens), and parodies of Usher tracks. I
suppose this passes for a family film, but not one I would be caught dead
taking my family to see.
