Review: Moment by Moment, Genesis Cinema ★★½

Moment by Moment (an Alexander Sage Oyen song cycle): engaging and listenable music, visually striking, but film is perhaps not its ideal format

Early karaoke videos used to put pretty footage behind a song with no thought for what came before or after. Moment by Moment reminded me of them. It is gorgeously shot and deeply pensive, but nothing links one song to the next.

To be fair, it is billed as a song cycle film, and nobody promises a single through story. The press notes do talk of interwoven stories of ten strangers in New York, though, and somehow it is hard not to want one.

Alexander Sage Oyen’s song cycle began as a one-off concert at 54 Below in 2013 and has since travelled to Thailand and Penn State, among other places. Future Spotlight Productions have now made it into a film of about 70 minutes, directed by Louis Rayneau. In my interview with Oyen, he told me that every song was written before he turned 21, and that he was trying to be as bare as possible in the hope that people would see something of themselves in them. That honesty is audible. The music is emotionally rich and easy to listen to straight away, with no need to get to know it first, and there is enough variety to sustain a feature-length film.

The opening song, “Live Forever“, sets the tone straight away. Its message is that we won’t live forever, so we should try to make something of the night while we have it.

My difficulty is that a film makes you hope. I knew what I was getting, and still, when the characters met in a scene, I found myself urging a story to emerge. Sometimes the hint of one is there. One of the bros (Jordan Donnelly) from “The Bro Duet” turns up again in “Where Do The Lonely Souls Go “. The answer is McDonalds at 3 am, it is a long way from the first song’s mood. There is a falling in love, but then was it a break-up that led to this later loneliness?

My husband and I were also in dispute over whether there was one death or two. Perhaps it doesn’t matter if you allow yourself to be led emotionally by the music, because I certainly had the feeling of mourning twice. But – as we were told all along – no overall story will arrive.

The lyrics within each song do drive a mini story forward. “Annie“, a drug-fuelled nightmare sung by Katie Tonkinson, was one of the most powerful. There is real depth in the goodbye song too. Between the songs, though, there is little to hold on to, and the audience seemed to sense it; it was a slightly restless crowd.

I suspect the craving for a story comes from the screen format. At a concert, or on an album, you would never expect the songs to join up, and I doubt I would have given it a thought. A film sets up the habit of following a plot, and the habit doesn’t switch off just because the publicity has said it should. The press notes describe the aim as using “the intimacy of film to challenge conventions of live performance” so it is clear that live performance has been deliberately eschewed. That raises the question of why this format was chosen. Would it actually have worked better in person, after all, or as a concept album?

The vocals are undeniably strong, from an ensemble with plenty of West End credits, including Olivier Award winner Cassidy Janson. Chloe Saracco, as Isabela, had warmth and depth. “Girls’ Night Out“, sung by Jarnéia Richard-Noel, Lois Gay and May Tether, had real Insta fun flair, though it was crying out for filming on location. The choreography, by Rachel Sargent, is solid and tight, adds interest to the songs and never felt out of place. The cinematography is a love letter to New York, leaning heavily on black and white with some colour accents. Though I did wonder about people who didn’t appear to be connected seemingly turning up in what seemed to be the same room.

Two smaller things nagged. If these are young New Yorkers, why do they all seem so affluent? And I wasn’t entirely sure about “The Bro Duet“, with a refrain of “no homo”. I know it is meant to show two male friends discovering how much they like each other, but heard through its main chorus alone it risks tipping into the homophobic. It left me a bit uncomfortable.

The film is dedicated to Kyle Birch, an actor from the London workshop who left what Oyen calls an indelible mark on the process and who sadly died before filming. The team chose not to replace him, which is a tender decision.

I would urge people to listen to the music. We had a lovely relaxed time letting the film wash over us, and no one would be disappointed to have gone. I am just not sure why they would choose this over other entertainment. It is being released to rent at home, which may be a better way to enjoy it.

Purchase the film here

[Thank you to Chloe Nelkin for gifted tickets for an honest review.]

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