A chronically shy young women lives like a recluse, avoiding her deranged, abusive mother and escaping into song with her deceased father's record collection. A local agent discovers her talent and tries to set her, and himself, on the road to the big time. The script reduces character and motivations to their essence, giving the narrative a fairytale simplicity. A wicked, self-centered matriarch lives with a Cinderella daughter, till the local 'king' discovers her and attempts to usurp her for his own nefarious ends. Meanwhile, a prince on a white horse - well, with a white pigeon - waits in the wings to rescue the heroine. The performances play to the archetypes: Caine captures the Lothario gone to seed perfectly, and his on-stage solo at the climax is comically powerful. Blethyn holds nothing back in a display of hedonistic ugliness. While admiring the talent of the actor, the depiction becomes a little one note and grating. Jim Broadbent simply steals every scene, character acting at its finest. The film functions as a showcase for the voice talents of Jane Horrocks, but she brings much more to the role of the daughter grieving for the loss of her father and stuck with a toxic mother. It has that morality play, feel-good factor that a lot of British cinema dealing with working-class lives excels in: think The Full Monty, Brass!, Billy Elliot, with the streak of sentimentality slightly turned down. A good example of British cinema punching above its weight.
Review of Little Voice
