Flora and Son (2023) written and directed by John Carney.

Flora and Son (2023) written and directed by John Carney.

I’m not a great man for musicals. I’ll stretch to The Commitments. But recently I watched Kneecap. Like Flora and Son set in contemporary Dublin. The film was great. The music was shite. Like Flora, like son.

Bertolt Brecht’s frequently quoted Motto comes to mind. It offers an excuse to seem vaguely knowledgeable, while being the opposite.

In the dark time

Will there also be singing?

Yes, there will also be singing

About the dark times.

It’s the ‘also’ that get you, not the dark times. Flora and Son is a rags to rags story, with a bit of gobshite in between. A singing contest taking place in Flora’s (Eve Hewson) local pub, The Blackbird. If  you don’t think she’s going to smash it then please leave the room.

Flora is not a singer.  We will not be wowed in the way that the ugly girl at the prom takes off her specs, lets down her hair, and is fucking gorgeous. Lady Gaga isn’t a lady. A dressed down Flora is pretty in a way Lady Gaga—despite her tens of millions—could never be. But Lady Gaga is a diva. When she sings, you know you are in the presence of a goddess. When Flora sings, you know you are in the dark times.    

For a man with toneless bones, I found it interesting that the apotheosis of music here and in CODA was Joni Mitchell's song "Both Sides, Now" from her album "Clouds". Flora cries when she listens to it on YouTube. The acoustic guitar, the purity of Mitchell’s voice, epitomises a different kind of life.   Similarly, when Ruby Rossi auditions at Berkley for their music programme, she sings “Both Sides, Now,” but at first hits a wrong note. I didn’t heat the bum note. Or Joni Mitchell’s song was full of bum notes. It made no difference to me. Joni could sing. Ruby was beautiful and could sing beautifully. A Joni wannabe preceded Flora onto the Blackbird stage. Knockout?  

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