Some films have no right to grab the heart strings as firmly or as effectively as they do. Song For Marion is a text-book example that shows how heavy-handed direction, poor scripting and shameless over-acting (or is it under-acting, hard to tell) crowd out a filmmakers’ best intentions. Given Paul Williams is both writer and director, he’s only got himself to blame.

In the north of England, curmudgeonly Arthur (Terence Stamp) cares for his beloved wife Marion (Vanessa Redgrave in an agreeably charming turn) who is dying from cancer. She belongs to an amateur choir – the OAPz where the ‘z’ stands for ‘street cred’ – which Arthur resents; a little because he’s an old git but mostly because the effort is compromising Marion’s health. When Marion dies, bubbly choirmaster Elizabeth (Gemma Aterton) tries to engage sour Arthur’s enthusiasm; a little because she shepherds lost souls but mostly because Arthur can sing. Maybe even a song for Marion.

If you’re making a formula film you have to follow the formula. Instead, Williams tries to make a two-hander from an ensemble movie which sidelines intriguing support in favour of considerable screen time with a grouchy man. Stamp’s one-note performance delivers an empathy bypass that runs counter to Redgrave’s best efforts and dilutes one or two winning moments with their estranged son (Christopher Eccleston in choice casting). Arthur, and by extension the film, is very easy to resist.

Stamp’s emotional blockage shifts our interest to the choir but it’s all for nought as Williams keeps them at an inexplicable distance, thoroughly wasting hearty veterans like Anne Reid. As he joins the narrative dots while saying nothing of any particular interest, the director makes a late, unearned grab at the heart strings and against all odds, succeeds. Because for all its glaring faults, Song For Marion had me in tears. Perhaps it’s a father-son thing. It certainly wasn’t the song.

// COLIN FRASER

Previewed at Sony Theatrette, Sydney on Monday 4th March, 2013