The Choral is one of those British historical dramas that feels like a pair of well-worn slippers, a cosy sweater, and a hot cup of tea on a drizzly day. It serves its purpose, offering two hours of no-guilt, gentle, soul-nourishing escapism, without being particularly memorable.
Set in 1916, the story follows a Yorkshire choral society struggling to fill its male ranks for an upcoming production. Many of the men are off fighting in the army, leaving behind old men and untrained young fellows who are more interested in ogling the young women in the choir. As if that weren’t enough to send the old guard a-twitter, they suddenly need to find a new chorus master.
Reluctantly, they turn to Dr. Henry Guthrie (Ralph Fiennes), a known musical talent who (gasp!) has just returned from a years-long career in Germany. His German connections make him something of a pariah in town, not to mention his habit of dropping German phrases into conversation (a habit he is quietly asked to tone down). Still, he is their best hope of saving the concert.
This is one of those familiar stories in which a community rallies, with a mix of gumption and unexpected talent, to put on a show. The younger characters frantically woo one another, knowing that looming conscription will soon change everything. The older characters watch with sadness, many already grappling with devastating losses of their own. The upcoming performance becomes an outsized focus in all of their lives, a coming together as the rest of the world seems to be falling apart.
I’ll admit, the climactic concert is genuinely moving, even if I struggled to keep track of most of the characters’ names. If sharing this moment of art doesn’t exactly heal the community (after all, there is a foreboding that the worst is yet to come with the war), it certainly helps them square their shoulders to face another day.
One of the final scenes shows a trio of boys posing in uniform at a photographer’s studio. When the photographer (himself a fellow choir member) takes the picture, he chokes up. It’s hard not to do the same, knowing—as the boys wave from the departing train—that many of them will never come home.
