POPCORN REVIEWSS

Written by Craig Brewer and based on a 2008 documentary penned by Greg Kohs, Song Sung Blue on its surface can be termed as a heartfelt tribute to the legendary singer Neil Diamond, as shown through the gaze of the entertainers Mike and Claire who formed a tribute band based on his songs. But as a subtext, you are witness to the fact that both these individuals are mentally fractured and coping in life. A further drill down gives us a fleeting glimpse into their middle class lives – both Mike and Claire individually have children of their own. Mike, a Vietnam war veteran uses music as a coping mechanism for life. For Claire, it is about burying the sorrows of her past with music as a form of escapism. Collectively, music here isn’t merely a connecting tissue but also a form of healing, a subject beautifully tackled in the animated Netflix film KPop Demon Hunters (2025).

You are witness to the organic dynamic between Mike and Claire, where music plays cupid in their lives. Their relationship is christened by their love for Neil Diamond, while willingly forming a ‘musical’ partnership that proceeds an upbeat form of cheerful optimism, even in times of crisis. It is interesting to note on how the ‘crisis’ is kept in the background while their music is flourishing, even as the couple slowly begin to get popularity in the state of Milwaukee. In its limited capacity, the template here remains that of an underdog story that is representative of the common lives of the people. Everyone is an underdog in some way or the other in your bid to the top of the pile. And whilst the latter isn’t always achievable, the lines often blur between achievement and recognition – wherein your recognition doesn’t always have to be global but is often based on the people around you. For Mike and Claire, life is too good to be true until their ‘dream’ is dented.

One of the fewer criticisms that I had with the writing was the abrupt tonal shift in the proceedings that was literally against the run of play. There was no foreshadowing employed, no warning signs – just a sudden jolt in the screenplay that had me covering my mouth for as the next five minutes. It probably was deliberate given the unpredictability of life which was showcased, but it took a while for me to settle into the new reality of the couple – depression. And here is where the drama comes back on track – it acts as a medium for a reboot in the lives of the characters, throwing different obstacles, testing equations and seamlessly allowing them to cope with their new reality.

One of the major obstacles for Claire remained her idea of music slowly evaporating from her life in the wake of the tragedy that she had to endure. It almost felt like a reset button of sorts that demanded a mode of acceptance. The situation wasn’t any different for Mike too – with his musical partnership with Clair being met with an air of uncertainty, even while trying hard to make ends meet by taking up odd jobs. But this is what fairy tales are made up of too – hardships that are often cut-through by a driving force of passion. For Mike and Claire, the idea of acceptance and healing was always through their music, similar to their recognition too.

There is a sense of melancholy that laces the final act, this time with a foreshadow that ties up the tragedy at the end. But in many ways, it remained a searing metaphor of life – of living it to the fullest whilst you can, for when the icecream melts, all that remains is a cone of what-ifs and regrets. In that regard, the ending is fiercely heartfelt while forcing you to shed a tear or two on more than one occasion, even as beautiful symphonies are metaphors for acceptance and just a celebration of life that has only memories to show in return. The screenplay touches you beautifully through its runtime while acting as a metaphor for cheerful optimism.