“August Rush”: Three Chords And The Truth About Music

Sometimes the driving idea that propels a movie from underneath is enough to overcome errors in execution and gaps in believability. It is during those times when we have to be willing to suspend the standard criticisms that we normally heap on films that don’t live up to what we have come to expect. “August Rush” signifies one of those times, and one of those movies.

Boosted by a phenomenal opening scene, this film is a 114-minute love song to the power and magic of music. Freddie Highmore is remarkable in the title role, an 11-year-old musical prodigy whose life is comprised of notes, chords and sounds that serve to cover up the circumstances that have landed him in a rough-and-tumble orphanage, forgotten and neglected. “I believe in music the way some people believe in fairy tales,” he says, clinging to the idea that music will one day allow him to track down his parents. The first 10 minutes of this movie are both moving and memorable.

There are certainly some implausible moments and a few too many coincidences for comfort. Jonathan Rhys Meyers is a bit of a Creepy McCheese as the father, Louis Connelly, and not only is he not believable as an Irishman, but the chemistry between he and Keri Russell (Lyla Novacek) is awkward at best. The “rock star” wooing the classical cellist, the bad guy chasing the good girl, is trite at best, and Meyers in particular is a tough sell as the music-is-my-life, down-and-out busker. Then, things get a little more uncomfortable when August makes his way to a musical pseudo-Neverland, ruled over by a previous Peter Pan, Robin Williams as Maxwell “Wizard” Wallace. Williams is alternately portrayed as a paternal protector of the arts and an abusive, possibly pedophilic lunatic. He’s never clearly defined, and the idea of an unknown, underground village of homeless orphans with outrageous musical ability is another tough pill to swallow. By the time we are taken to a party where Irish guys are standing around drinking Dos Equis, it’s almost time to give up on this one.

However, something about “August Rush” keeps pulling you back in. It’s “Cider House Rules” meets “Little Man Tate” meets “Finding Forrester,” with enough inspiring moments to keep dragging you along. There are some neat plot parallels, especially the usage of the “I’ve been counting” line by both the mother and the long-lost son. Highmore redeems enough of his flick, with the help of a nuanced, soulful performance by Terrence Howard as Richard Jeffries, August’s case worker.

Again, the implausibility factor is through the roof at times and the coincidence warning bell rings like Three Mile Island toward the end, but this is an original, cool movie that begs to be liked. “August Rush” is a reminder of the raw, emotional, impactful strength of music, and who can’t use such a reminder every now and again?

Here’s a film that can be enjoyed as long as it isn’t too closely analyzed … one that can soar if you are willing to suspend that disbelief and shrug off your built-in cynic. If you try, and if you can, you’re sure to be glad you did.