Sunshine on Leith attempts to do with the music of The Proclaimers what Magnolia did with Aimee Mann songs, namely fashion a narrative that interweaves the various tales hinted at in the songs lyrics. The story lines themselves are pure family melodrama, and like the renditions of the songs, some work better than others. Peter Mullan brings that gravelly majesty of his to the show, a credible thread of proletariat credentials in a film that largely strips the working-class despair and Scottish nationalist politics from The Proclaimers lyrics (the characters who sing of Linwood and Bathgate no more most likely have never heard of these places ever). His marriage crisis is genuinely fraught, and when his wife discovers his secret, precisely at the worst of times, there is a wordless look that passes between husband and wife that cuts the foundations of 25 years. In a film that is unabashedly going after froth and fun most of the time, this is a small, startling cinematic moment. The film is a love letter to The Proclaimers and to Edinburgh, and as such will satisfy audiences who crave such depictions. It is not normally my cup of tea, but I found myself rooting for George MacKay's Davy to do the right thing, and hoping Jane Horrock's Jean would find a way to forgive. As for the songs, 500 Miles gets a fittingly stagey production, but I can't help but feel the two soldiers, or the father and son, in the stands at Easter Road, belting out Sunshine on Leith with the Hibs support, would have been a powerfully poignant moment. A bit of a missed opportunity there.
Review of Sunshine on Leith
