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Well, isn’t this just a fun, modest movie about a group of Dublin musicians trying to make something of themselves by playing American soul music of the 50s and 60s. there’s no great lesson to impart, which is quite refreshing, just a good time to be had watching a batch of chain-smoking, foul-mouthed Irish lads and lassies try to get it together long enough to maybe get a record deal. The writing’s on the wall from the beginning that it’s probably not going to happen for them, but it’s still a blast to watch them try anyway.
Less glossy than many of Alan Parker’s other films, most notably 1980’s Fame to which this plays as something of an inverse, it still has all of the depth of feeling and thought Parker’s other films do. What does that mean? This is mainly an excuse to force a bunch of professional musicians and neophyte actors to jam, film the results, and pause every so long to add a dash of dramatics to keep things going. It’s got all the emotional resonance of a commercial.
You’re not watching The Commitments for depth of character, most of them are one-note and prone to arch putdowns filled with promiscuous vocabulary, but for the propolusive, energetic musical numbers. Think of this as an early-90s variation of “let’s put on a show” musicals of Hollywood’s Golden Age. While the film is set and shot on location in Ireland, it’s heart and soul, plastic as they are, are squared completely in a Hollywood of yesteryear. Rain soaked streets aren’t compelling drama or a replacement for absorbing story beats, but does that matter in the face of Andrew Strong bringing his brogue to “Try a Little Tenderness” or “In the Midnight Hour”? Not so much, in the end.
