“Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.”

We all know that music is more than just melodies and the words that accompany them on many occasions – it is a form of expression that transcends all social and cultural boundaries, being a truly universal language and one that has been celebrated as such for centuries. It is important to have a little bit of music in your everyday life, if only for the sake of being a daily reminder of the beauty of existence and the vital nature of art as a means to reflect the world that surrounds us. This is a sentiment shared by Dr Guthrie, the protagonist of The Choral, the most recent directorial outing of acclaimed theatre director Nicholas Hytner, who returns to filmmaking for the first time in several years, collaborating again with Sir Alan Bennett, who wrote the screenplay for the film. The story is set in 1916 in the fictional town of Ramsden in the north of England, and follows Guthrie, a pernickety pianist and expert on classical music, as he is hired to lead the choral society in their upcoming performance. For most members of the community, a musical performance is not much of a priority, especially due to the fact that the country was deep into the First World War, with many young men from the town being enlisted to serve the country, very few of them ultimately returning. Nonetheless, Guthrie and his cohorts find the value in bringing music into this community, since it is all that they have to offer in terms of comfort and distraction from the chaos that has started to cause widespread worry and anxiety. A very simple film, but one that benefits from being handled by a pair of masterful artists who may not be doing their absolute best work here, but are nonetheless entirely committed to the premise of a film that could have been hopelessly overwrought, but instead settles on being pleasant more than anything else, the ideal scenario for a story that demanded an approach that prioritised reliability over innovation, something to which everyone in this film is all too happy to oblige.

The themes that drive The Choral are relatively easy to recognise, and far simpler to unpack than we would expect. Like many of Bennett’s works, the film intends to be an overarching depiction of England at a particular point in time, following a single narrative that stands in for larger ideas. In this case, it’s the story of a group of people gathered together to use music as a means for a momentary distraction. In times of war, the idea of engaging in any kind of art seems wildly inappropriate – but the realisation that art is not a distraction, but rather a vessel through which all these complex emotions can be filtered, forms the foundation for this film. Perhaps the idea of yet another film set during the First World War and focusing on the plight of ordinary people seems dull, but through Bennett’s keen pen (which has never been sharper than it is here, at least in terms of how he uses this story as a means to reflect much deeper themes) and Hytner’s reliable direction, we find that the film manages to be quite enthralling, even when it goes in certain directions that would have been more appropriate had it focused on different aspects of the story. As far as central motifs go, the idea of finding solace and comfort in music is not entirely foreign, but is something that the film uses as the foundation for something quite enthralling, particularly in how it fixates on the subject of community and the importance of coming together to work through certain difficult situations, which is the key to recovering from the many challenges that tend to define – and often derail – even the strongest and most resilient of populations. As a historical drama, it does well in presenting the facts neatly and concisely, but never to the point where it is weighed down by too many details.

A good concept requires a strong cast, and The Choral is more than happy to oblige. At the heart of the film is Ralph Fiennes, who turns in yet another solid performance. It may not be anything too remarkable or daring, but it is authentic in a way that only someone as skilled as Fiennes could provide. His stoicism and quiet displays of emotion are what anchor the film, and allow his portrayal of Guthrie to have so many wonderful layers – and part of the appeal comes in how he navigates the many complex ideas through which this man would likely have to filter his own experiences, watching a conflict involving England, his country of his birth, and Germany, a country for which he’s developed a sincere fondness, to the point where its positioning as the natural enemy of his people becomes a point of enormous contention. These are ideas that define the character, and make Fiennes’ performance so extraordinarily compelling, even at its most simplistic. He’s joined by a large ensemble, some of which are quite familiar – Mark Addy brings his usual warmth and wit to the part of the eternally congenial photographer and second-in-command of the choir, and Roger Allam (one of the most underrated talents of his generation) gets a chance to show his skills as the conflicted leader of the society who has to grapple with his own pride when confronted with a situation that is potentially going to cause the entire society to fall apart. Everyone in the film is fully committed to realising the core ideas of the film, and while no one is necessarily challenging themselves in the way that we may hope, it’s still extremely solid work from a cast that knows how to play on very specific emotions, giving insights into a story that is only strengthened by the weight of their absolutely wonderful work.

What truly does tie everything in The Choral together are the ways in which the film sets out to explore certain emotions, which it does very well. There would have been far too many moments of heavy-handed commentary when it is neither practical nor all that impressive. Something that we do realise as we make our way through this film is how simplicity can be extremely valuable, at least in terms of how we view certain stories. Sentimentality is always going to have a place in such narratives, but it’s not necessarily in the sense that it eclipses the actual story. Bennett and Hytner understood this implicitly – they weren’t interested in just the emotional weight, but also the more esoteric elements, which prove to ultimately guide the story. It’s not easy to create a film that is about war and the challenges faced by those who remain at home – either those who are unable to fight in a war that they know could mean certain death for them, or the family members who linger behind, patiently waiting to get news about whether their sons have survived yet another day in those hostile situations – while still allowing it to be a tender, sincere exploration of community and how even a single death in this small town can lead to enormous emotional consequences. These are the qualities that make The Choral so compelling, and while it can be slightly saccharine at certain points (including in the more tense climactic moments, where we are led to believe they’ve encountered an insurmountable obstacle), it does make sense in the overall context of the film, which understands how to draw the audience into this world, creating a poignant and meaningful celebration of the past and the people who handled these complex, harrowing experiences through looking towards art as the channel through which they could filter all their emotions.

As far as historical dramas and films about the intersection between faith and society go, The Choral is nothing remarkable – but it has a reliability and charm that is difficult to overlook, and which we can certainly appreciate in terms of how it delivers exactly what it promises. It’s not an overly complex film, but it never proposes itself as such, and is instead more than satisfied with just settling into a position where it tells a simple story in a manner that is direct, unfurnished and lacking any kind of inappropriate sentimentality, allowing the emotions to speak for themselves and then ultimately providing us with many clear reasons as to why this approach is the most intriguing. It’s a film built on some very simple ideas, but at its core, The Choral is a film about community more than anything else, a straightforward drama built around the theme of finding common ground, which is the only balm that can help these people navigate the inconsolable grief of seeing their children die fighting in a war, expendable members of the armed forces that are supposed to represent their country, but at an enormous cost. The film’s stance is clear and direct, and while it doesn’t go into too much detail, there is a lingering sadness that enshrouds the film, preventing it from the kind of blind optimism that we would initially expect. This realism only consolidates the complex themes that drive the story, which are rendered extraordinarily well, quietly and methodically unravelling into a film that may not announce itself, but proves to nonetheless be entirely reliable and deeply moving in ways that are often difficult to pinpoint directly.