The cinematic equivalent of filtered water, The Chorus is all smooth, nutrient-free clichés. This shamelessly globalized French Oscar submission even opens with a shot of an American flag--perhaps an unconscious declaration of defeat for importable Gallic cinema.
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An enchantingly beautiful and moving film.
Extremely goodhearted, if not exactly original or exciting.
An appealing lead performance from its leading man and a wonderfully sentimental, if overly familiar, story line are the chief virtues of this French drama, a huge success in its native country.
A runaway hit in France last year and the country's official Oscar entry, is a well-nigh irresistible film celebrating the redemptive power of music.
No stereotype is left unheralded and no heartstring left untugged in this freely adapted remake of Jean Dreville's mostly forgotten "La cage aux rossignols"
The movie is rotten the way that only a denatured made-for-export slice of Gallic nostalgia can be.
A deeply conventional story about truculent or orphaned boys and the gentle soul who finds himself by shaping the tots into a chorus.
The Chorus plucks desperately at the heartstrings, but fails to breathe new life into a tired old tune.
The Chorus is sham art and questionable entertainment, but at the very least it sends you whistling out of the theater.