Terence Stamp and Vanessa Redgrave prove that it can be fun to watch old pros at work in this shamelessly "feel-good" film about life, death, love and finding a voice. You might shed a tear or two as well, though some may find it corny, manipulative and, at times, downright cringe-making. Redgrave plays Marion, who is ill with terminal cancer, but derives comfort and distraction by singing in the local pensioners' choir. Stamp co-stars as her husband, Arthur, who is caring but curmudgeonly, a man of few words and even fewer outward emotions. He's disparaging about her involvement with the choir, which is run with disarming enthusiasm by Elizabeth (Gemma Arterton injecting much-needed youthful energy, as does Christopher Eccleston as Arthur's estranged son). But when tragedy strikes, it's the choir that calms Arthur's rage, allowing him to find both inner peace and a new lease of life. It's a surprisingly dyed-in-the-wool weepie from writer/director Paul Andrew Williams, who's better known for much grittier fare like London to Brighton and Cherry Tree Lane.