The late Lord Lew Grade never quite succeeded in establishing himself on the big screen, and "Something to Believe In" - the last movie he produced before his death - continues the tradition. Plus, it reminds you that "they don't make them like that anymore" for a reason.
I have nothing against sugary sentimentality (in fact, I like a good "aaahhh" as much as the next person); it's badly-done sugary sentimentality I object to, and John Hough's movie is filled with the stuff. A Las Vegas waitress/aspiring actress (Maria Pitillo) discovers she's dying and puts her faith in a statue of the Madonna that has been found weeping in Italy; en route she meets a talented pianist (William McNamara) on the way to a big competition. Cue what should and could have been an affecting drama, but what in practice comes within throwing distance of camp; jaw-droppingly bad dialogue (our heroine's boss [Robert Wagner]: "You can die on your own time"), amazingly contrived plot turns, unbelievable ending... you can feel the brain cells inside your skull dying as the film unspools.
The movie also sports some very bad editing and performances that don't move much beyond the level of making lines heard and not bumping into the furniture (pity Tom Conti and the late Ian Bannen). Also, the guest appearances in the opening credits are over and done with by the first fifteen minutes, for which Wagner, Jill St. John and the late Roddy McDowall were no doubt grateful... but no film is totally without redeeming features, and the Italian scenery and the musical moments (including Placido Domingo warbling Tim Rice lyrics over the credits) are the only times the movie really works, making Lalo Schifrin - who also appears onscreen conducting the orchestra in the contest climax - the real star of the film. But you can buy the soundtrack album instead.
Lew Grade's real successes were always in TV - stick with them.
I have nothing against sugary sentimentality (in fact, I like a good "aaahhh" as much as the next person); it's badly-done sugary sentimentality I object to, and John Hough's movie is filled with the stuff. A Las Vegas waitress/aspiring actress (Maria Pitillo) discovers she's dying and puts her faith in a statue of the Madonna that has been found weeping in Italy; en route she meets a talented pianist (William McNamara) on the way to a big competition. Cue what should and could have been an affecting drama, but what in practice comes within throwing distance of camp; jaw-droppingly bad dialogue (our heroine's boss [Robert Wagner]: "You can die on your own time"), amazingly contrived plot turns, unbelievable ending... you can feel the brain cells inside your skull dying as the film unspools.
The movie also sports some very bad editing and performances that don't move much beyond the level of making lines heard and not bumping into the furniture (pity Tom Conti and the late Ian Bannen). Also, the guest appearances in the opening credits are over and done with by the first fifteen minutes, for which Wagner, Jill St. John and the late Roddy McDowall were no doubt grateful... but no film is totally without redeeming features, and the Italian scenery and the musical moments (including Placido Domingo warbling Tim Rice lyrics over the credits) are the only times the movie really works, making Lalo Schifrin - who also appears onscreen conducting the orchestra in the contest climax - the real star of the film. But you can buy the soundtrack album instead.
Lew Grade's real successes were always in TV - stick with them.