One of those little Miramax trifles from Britain that dominated the art-house back in the mid-to-late '90s. It stars Jane Horrocks as the title character, a painfully shy young woman who barely speaks at all, but has an outrageously good singing voice. Michael Caine plays a man from the music business who accidentally discovers her while he's visiting her abusive, skanky mother (Brenda Blethyn). Caine's attentions turn wholly to Horrocks, and Blethyn becomes even more wicked to her. Ewan MacGregor co-stars as Horrocks' pigeon-raising love interest and Jim Broadbent appears as Caine's friend, a night club owner. Brenda Blethyn received an Oscar nomination for her work, but she probably didn't deserve it. It's like she reprises her Secrets & Lies character and cranks up her obnoxiousness to 11. Horrocks is the entire show here, really (though I did like Caine's work). She's quite adorable in her shy mode, and when she does sing, man, does she nail it. The original play (directed by Sam Mendes) was written specifically for her to showcase her talents. I'd probably give the film a passing grade, but, really, there's only one sequence where Horrocks gets to show off in full force. It's exquisite, but I really wanted more. A lot more.
Review of Little Voice
