There’s worse ways to spend a Monday morning than in a cinema, although you may sometimes think that the film you see might just set the standard for the week to come. If that is indeed the case, then those of us who saw Chuck Chuck Baby this morning are in for a damn good week.
Janis Pugh’s film, set in the less than glamorous surroundings of a chicken packaging plant, is as uplifting and joyous a movie as I’ve seen in a long time. Pugh blends romance, comedy, drama and musical interludes into a coherent and balanced whole while judging the tone perfectly throughout. No mean feat.
Helen (Louise Brealey) works nightshifts at the plant and cares for her ex-husband’s terminally ill mother Gwen (Sorcha Cusack) during the day. Brought up in a home, Gwen had taken her in as a teenager and become a substitute for the mother she never knew. The debt, and the love, Helen feels for her keeps her stuck in an awkward household dynamic that involves her sharing with her ex and his girlfriend and new baby.
The death of the man next door, a foul and abusive drunk, brings his daughter Joanne (Annabel Scholey) back to town for a couple of weeks to clear his house. Although they had been at school together, they had hardly spoken – Helen somewhat awestruck by Joanne, while Joanne had feelings for Helen that she dared not express. Now, though, when she turns up at the plant in her vintage car and carrying a ghettoblaster, it’s not just for drinks with the girls, but the chance for romance with Helen.
Pugh builds the will-they-won’t-they tension well, although given the story up to that point, it’s rather obvious which way it will go (If I’d been watching at home rather than in a cinema I may well have been shouting “Just kiss her, will you!” at the screen, which should give you an idea of how involving the characters are).
Both Brealey and Scholey are outstanding, and completely believable in their attraction to each other. They’re backed up by a cast giving top quality performances and the only
thing that gave me pause was how could someone like Gwen have a son with no visible redeeming features whatsoever. The musical moments work well – it’s not a case of the cast suddenly bursting into song, but instead singing along to music on a car radio or the aforementioned boombox and becoming backing singers for Neil Diamond, the Cascades or whoever.
I’ve sat through some supposed “feelgood” movies that have left me feeling anything but, no such problem here. When asked before the screening what she would like the audience to take away from the film, Ms Pugh replied “Love”. Fair to say she got that right.
Jim Welsh
Radio Summerhall Arts 