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“You said this was a comedy,” Julie said, when we’d gotten about two-thirds of the way through the movie Nativity!. In a desperate attempt to impress his former drama school classmate turned bitter foe Gordon Shakespeare, primary school teacher Paul Maddens (Martin Freeman) claims that his former girlfriend - now a Hollywood producer - will be attending the nativity play that he is directing at his school.
Unfortunately, Maddens’ teachers aide, whom Julie and I instantly dubbed British Andy Dwyer, overhears the boast - and tells absolutely everyone in town, with the result that the whole of Coventry is soon buzzing with the news. Local businesses donate props and costumes! The mayor offers to led Maddens’ class use the ruins of Coventry Cathedral for his play! And the children, of course, are wild with joy and excitement. Preparations mount, the news spreads, Gordon Shakespeare mounts a spying campaign so that his own Nativity play can rival Maddens’ - and meanwhile Maddens can’t even bring himself to call his ex, even though flinging himself on her mercy might be the only way to save himself from the web of lies he’s created.
In the Hollywood sense, it isn’t much of a comedy. It’s far from a laugh a minute; indeed, parts of the film are quite painful, as Maddens digs himself ever deeper into this morass.
But in the Shakespearian sense, it is a comedy: it ends happily, and the happiness is greater because it seemed so impossible that it could all work out. There’s even a play within a play: the children perform the Nativity that we’ve heard so much about, not quite in full but at enough length that we can see all the highlights, and it really is delightful.
It feels like something that a reasonably talented group of schoolchildren really could pull off - especially given the level of community support that they get in the movie - not impossibly slick, like the polished show numbers that appeared in nearly every episode of Glee. Mr. Maddens’ students have been practicing all term, and their hard work has created something magical and joyous.
Unfortunately, Maddens’ teachers aide, whom Julie and I instantly dubbed British Andy Dwyer, overhears the boast - and tells absolutely everyone in town, with the result that the whole of Coventry is soon buzzing with the news. Local businesses donate props and costumes! The mayor offers to led Maddens’ class use the ruins of Coventry Cathedral for his play! And the children, of course, are wild with joy and excitement. Preparations mount, the news spreads, Gordon Shakespeare mounts a spying campaign so that his own Nativity play can rival Maddens’ - and meanwhile Maddens can’t even bring himself to call his ex, even though flinging himself on her mercy might be the only way to save himself from the web of lies he’s created.
In the Hollywood sense, it isn’t much of a comedy. It’s far from a laugh a minute; indeed, parts of the film are quite painful, as Maddens digs himself ever deeper into this morass.
But in the Shakespearian sense, it is a comedy: it ends happily, and the happiness is greater because it seemed so impossible that it could all work out. There’s even a play within a play: the children perform the Nativity that we’ve heard so much about, not quite in full but at enough length that we can see all the highlights, and it really is delightful.
It feels like something that a reasonably talented group of schoolchildren really could pull off - especially given the level of community support that they get in the movie - not impossibly slick, like the polished show numbers that appeared in nearly every episode of Glee. Mr. Maddens’ students have been practicing all term, and their hard work has created something magical and joyous.
