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Raise Your Voice (2004) New Line Cinema 1 hr. 43 mins. Starring: Hilary Duff, Oliver James, John Corbett, Rebecca DeMornay, Dana Davis, David Keith, James Avery, Rita Wilson, Jason Ritter, Johnny K. Lewis Directed by: Sean McNamara Raise Your Voice Rating:  
E-MAIL FRANK OCHIENG You have to give credit to the persistent Hollywood handlers that insist on consistently elevating the big screen profile of bubblegum beauty Hilary Duff by trapping the teen tart in yet another sugary soap opera meant to appease her fervent following. Sure, ardent fans of Duff will probably pay their lunch money to see this curvy cutie read from a phonebook. This is what director Sean McNamara is hoping for when the teen scene flocks the theaters to see Ms. Duff test her vapid vocal chords in the mawkish musical melodrama Raise Your Voice. It’s not uncommon for moviemakers to try and milk the current craze of whoever’s the flavor of the month just to cater to the pubescent pop culture masses. Ms. Duff certainly isn’t the only one who’s guilty of such treatment as there have been many attempts to propel other girlie-generated pop princesses to the big time in order to appeal to their impressionable galpal movie-going peer group. For instance, consider contemporary competitor Amanda Bynes from the overly cutesy What A Girl Wants or the Olsen Twins from the insufferable romp New York Minute. Apparently one cannot swing a detached Barbie doll head without stumbling across a slew of sweet-tongued flimsy female-oriented pap that shoot for the same goal: to heighten the star-making status of their giddy and baby-faced Lolita-type clientele. In watching the anemically manipulative Raise Your Voice, one wouldn’t mind calling for a touch of well-needed laryngitis. McNamara’s intention is to bring forth the frivolity and genuine discontentment that was so evident from other artistic teen expositions that worked more effectively on the nerves such as Fame and Center Stage. However, Raise Your Voice is so lacking in its pseudo-emotional drive and inspiration that the weepy wonderment of its effectiveness is so woefully convoluted and forced beyond imagination. No one can doubt the charm and exuberance of Duff and her enthusiasm in this tepid tale of a girl and her dream to sing as a resilient songstress. Unfortunately, this corny drama about rising to one’s expected ability feels so flavorless and cheesy. Plus, Raise Your Voice suspiciously purports to take on more than it can chew as far as marketing Duff as a pretty face behind pushing pop tunes for a juiced-up soundtrack. Rather than trying to give Duff the big celluloid American Idol makeover, McNamara and his cohorts should have concentrated on trying to sell this fleeting flick as passable entertainment worth watching. Some pre-teen girls may gush over the tripe that hearty heroine Duff wades through with her questionable talents as a disjointed diva. But for others, Raise Your Voice is a fruitless fluff piece. Meet Terri Fletcher (Duff). She’s a small-town gal with a so-called boisterous voice to showcase. After graduating from Riverdale High (insert your Archie comics jokes here), Terri eagerly wants to enroll at a competitive performing arts academy during the summer in Los Angeles. Unfortunately for Terri, her disapproving father Simon (David Keith) isn’t too thrilled about the whole idea. Nevertheless, Terri is hopeful to follow her dream despite Daddy Dearest’s reservations. In fact, Terri’s supportive brother Paul (Jason Ritter from TV’s Joan of Arcadia) sneaks a home video of his sister in vocal action doing her thing to the academy. In a sulking session such as Raise Your Voice, this couldn’t be a probing tearjerker without the overdosed pathos piled on for overwrought sentimentality. When caring sibling Paul is killed by a drunk driver, poor Terri contemplates quitting her musical aspirations altogether as her disillusionment gets the best of her. Feeling wounded emotionally Terri is rescued by her concerned mother (Rita Wilson) and close aunt (Rebecca DeMornay). They convince their saddened songbird to not give up her plans and head to L.A. to pursue her passion. Of course Terri still yearns for her dearly departed Paul and there’s also her obstinate old man Simon that still wants her to remain around the area. But mommy and auntie insist that Terri attend the school even if it means doing it without her father’s approving knowledge. Once Terri is at the academy, she continues her bemoaning and feels very uncomfortable. To make matter worse, her leather-wearing Zen-like performing arts instructor (John Corbett late from TV’s Northern Exposure) isn’t taken as much with Terri’s singing tendencies as her previous high school supporters. However, it takes a cute-faced British songwriter named Jay (Oliver James, Amanda Bynes’s smitten studmuffin from the equally interminable What A Girl Wants) to snap Terri out of her funk and back into her singing groove. Soon the pair become involved romantically and develops a knack for kissy-poo creativity this side of the cozy collaboration that was soulful sweethearts Ashford and Simpson. The partnership of playing footsies with desirable Jay while writing songs is very liberating and laboring for Terri. Still, will she be able to overcome her continuing bout with stage fright (yet another handy standby obstacle in the “sympathetic sweepstakes” scriptwriting) as the intrusive bright lights hit her ravishing round face? And will Paul’s devastating car accident haunt her indelible mind much like a fearful war-torn flashback that would make a Vietnam veteran flinch with psychological cynicism? Some of these angst-ridden concerns would be slightly relevant if this soupy cinema didn’t have the dopey depth of warm hot chocolate accompanied with floating mini marshmallows! It appears that Voice struggles in its darn deed to promote the magnetism of Duff’s radiant young star impact. And to a certain extent, Duff is charming, chipper and puts forth an optimistic effort in presenting a voiced vixen that’s sweetly packaged like a box of granulated sugar. But the pretentious plot and diluted demonstrations of Duff’s synthetic singing forces Raise Your Voice to lower your throat in utter disappointment. Again, it’s certainly understandable that this teen-based tale is slated for the target that mainly is composed of the teenybopper sect. Nevertheless, the tepid trials and tribulations of the processed music and Duff’s disenfranchisement aren’t as hip to qualify as a decent campy Brady Bunch moment. There are many unanswered questions that need immediate begging. For one, why would a capable supporting cast such as Wilson, Keith, Corbett, and DeMornay waste their time in this musical mishmash aimed at the afterschool special crowd? One might gather that acting parts must be that scarce to come by thus welcoming the opportunity to be seen in this toothless and tacky weeper. The ploy of utilizing “It” Brit James will definitely stimulate the hormonal honey-buns as they will revere him as soothing eye candy while wishing they were in Duff’s lucky shoes. The movie annoyingly parades about the typical overachieving (yet flawed) banal backstage prototypes that make up Duff’s Terri Fletcher’s convoluted world. Honk your horn if you have seen these sketchy personalities before. Let’s see…how about the geeky male sidekick (Johnny K. Lewis) that secretly yearns for his platonic female companion? Or the shy best friend (Kat Dennnings) that needs the energetic reinforcement? And let’s not forget the self-absorbed and privileged rival (Lauren C. Mayhew) that threatens to make life miserable for our heralded heroine. Oh yeah, it wouldn’t be a complete experience if doubting daddy Simon finally accepts his child’s hard-earned endeavors by reaching inside his empty heart that would make classic Leave it to Beaver television papa Ward Clever gleam with envy. Raise Your Voice will ultimately be dismissed as another teary-eyed teen-scene flick that aimlessly spouts off about facing adversity and tapping into the talented tapestry of one’s inherent abilities. Duff is delightfully upbeat and her impressionable fans will probably follow her into a tidal wave if it meant getting extremely wet with her in tow. The cloying and cliched convention of Voice is undoubtedly clear—Duff and company couldn’t carry a tune in this mundane movie even if they had the world’s largest and reliable bucket. Click here to comment on this review or post your own thoughts. Frank Ochieng © TheWorldJournal.com |
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