The lyrics are no more than serviceable, the story moves in random fits and starts, some of the acting is not of the greatest, and the dialogue is occluded with cliché (“time moves…like molasses in January,” writes Miriam [Arielle Goodman], ostensibly a Harvard graduate, to her war-bound husband), but when these folks open their mouths to sing – and I say this with the utmost of reverence – oh, my God! [Read more...]