Certificate: 12A (infrequent strong language, moderate threat, sex references, discrimination). Running Time: 99 mins. UK Distributor: Pathé UK
WHO’S IN IT?
Jennifer Saunders, Judi Dench, Russell Tovey, David Bradley, Derek Jacobi, Bally Gill, Gerard Horan, Jessica Baglow, Eileen Davies
WHO’S BEHIND THE CAMERA?
Richard Eyre (director), Alan Bennett and Heidi Thomas (writers), Damian Jones and Kevin Loader (producers), George Fenton (composer), Ben Smithard (cinematographer), John Wilson (editor)
WHAT’S IT ABOUT?
The staff and patients of a Yorkshire hospital’s geriatric ward attempt to save it from closure…
WHAT ARE MY THOUGHTS ON ALLELUJAH?
The National Health Service is, I think we can all agree, an institution that’s worth fighting for. The current budget cuts to the service and the ongoing strike action by hard-working doctors, nurses and ambulance drivers all feel justified, especially in a post-pandemic world, to save it from being lost to the world of corporate greed. At least, this is what Alan Bennett’s 2018 stage play Allelujah! sets out to achieve, and like a lot of the celebrated playwright’s work it offers enough crowd-pleasing material to get by with a jolly look at certain social issues.
On film, however, Allelujah (minus the “!” for its stage-to-film adaptation) works very differently, and often not for the better. In fact, it’s quite an unfocused, condescending, and downright crazy film that, for all its noble intentions, doesn’t exactly put the NHS in the best possible light.
The film, directed by Richard Eyre and adapted for the screen by writer Heidi Thomas, is set primarily on the geriatric wards of the Yorkshire-based Bethlehem Hospital, known as “the Beth” to its locals and inhabitants, which is under threat of closure due to governmental budget cuts. The numerous elderly residents include former school headmaster Ambrose (Derek Jacobi), mousy librarian Mary (Judi Dench), and working-class miner Joe (David Bradley), whose son Colin (Russell Tovey) is a management consultant for the current Health Secretary in London, sent to survey the fiscal fallout of the Beth’s closure while also visiting his ailing dad there. The ward is overseen by the steely head Matron, Sister Gilpin (Jennifer Saunders) who’s about to be given an award for her many years of service, and the kindly Dr. Valentine (Bally Gill) who treats his patients with kindness and care.
There isn’t really a straightforward plot in Allelujah, which is more just a number of threads loosely edited together like it’s a very light episode of a TV medical soap opera. The film feels very episodic as a result, bouncing from one sub-plot to the next with not much in the way of connective tissue, which quickly leaves it with an overwhelming lack of focus. Since it’s never entirely clear which of these many, many (too many, in fact) characters we’re supposed to consider the de-facto lead, due to its constant shifting from one perspective to another, it becomes difficult to determine who you’re supposed to identify the most with, and therefore your emotional engagement is as limited as their rotating screentime. At first, we’re led to think that we’re following Bally Gill’s Dr. Valentine (especially when he chimes in occasionally with voiceover narration to deliver bits of exposition), but then he becomes side-lined for a while to make room for the shared arc between David Bradley and Russell Tovey, which itself is interrupted by interludes with Derek Jacobi, Eileen Davies, and a largely wasted Judi Dench in a thin role that feels undeserving of her talents, much of which involves her learning how to use an iPad (which actually does become important later when… oh, just wait). Not even Jennifer Saunders, in a much sterner part than she’s used to playing, seems to be able to smoothly fluctuate between considerate carer to full-on Nurse Ratched, which again makes it hard to get wrapped up in her story, or indeed that of many others.
Allelujah also falls into that category of film where it’s clearly being marketed toward a particular demographic – in this case, the middle-aged and lower-to-middle-class WASP – and where you can practically feel the manipulation towards said audience taking place in real time. It says all the things that people in that group want to hear, or perhaps even say themselves, with humour that largely has to do with the juxtaposition between their age and their delinquent behaviour (one constantly makes cheeky references to their sexual lifestyle, others drop sudden f-bombs in the middle of sentences, and there’s even an awkward stumbling upon someone who’s completely naked in the shower). It’s no different to the likes of The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel or its sequel (incidentally, both are much better geriatric-aimed movies with Judi Dench), but those films at least had a stronger focus and didn’t feel quite as condescending to its elderly characters, some of whom here are reduced to being incontinent and delirious rather than actually being defined as actual people. I have no idea if Bennett’s stage play portrays them the same way, but Heidi Thomas’s script doesn’t do them many favours.
Honestly, I wasn’t thinking much of Allelujah whilst I was watching it be so flimsily and safely put together… but then, all of a sudden, it does quite the rug-pull during the last twenty minutes, with a twist that steers things into wholly unexpectedly dark territory. Without giving it away (and believe me, you need to be caught off guard to this as much as I was), the film ends up being an unlikely companion piece to a certain Netflix medical thriller from last year, which given the jolly and well-meaning film beforehand comes as a genuine shock, to the point of it being almost like tonal whiplash. It’s by far the most interesting thing about the movie (for better or worse), but unfortunately it comes in just when it’s beginning to wrap up, and is then followed by some very heavy-handed pleas to the audience regarding the future and stability of the NHS which leave you less entertained and more like you’ve just been lectured to by aggravatingly far-left activists. The message itself is a strong and poignant one – because the NHS is indeed something that we need to protect as much as we can – but the ham-fisted execution, especially coming off a reveal that is so shockingly insane that you’ll be thinking about that more than what it actually concludes with, comes across as all too forceful and pandering.
I, like many of you, want the NHS to continue offering the best possible care to everyone, but films like Allelujah, as good-intentioned as they surely are, make that argument much more difficult to even out.
SO, TO SUM UP…
Allelujah is an unfocused and often condescending rally cry for the stability of the NHS, a noble message that is hampered by both an episodic structure with too many characters to focus on, and a blatant pandering toward its target demographic which makes the admittedly shocking final twist all the more baffling.
