I Can Only Imagine (dir. Andrew & Jon Erwin)

Perhaps the only positive thing i can say about THE ERWIN BROTHER’s christian-rock tale is that it’s not unwatchable terrible - though this seems like I’m damming with faint praise: there is an air of righteous sanctimony running throughout it's hefty 110 minute running time that is hard to ignore, as is it's undercurrent of sanctimony aimed solely as it's "true believer" crowd.

Pitched as a part-biopic come religious allegory, the early life of MercyMe’s vocalist Bart Millard’s - played here by first-timer Michael J. Finely -and his tumultuous upbringing and the genesis of the eponymous infamous song is the basis for hokey morality tale on the nature of forgiveness - and it mostly comes down to how invested you become in our lead characters journey, and whether you are prone to believe in religious miracles.

We first meet Bart during an interview with a record producer, as she muses the genesis of his bands most famous song. We’re than transported back to his early upbringing in Greenville, Texas, which coincidentally become the basis of the song and everything else in his life. Dennis Quaid is his aggressively authoritative father: prone to moments of unadulterated rage, and the occasional bout of psychological manipulation. Unsurprisingly, his Mom can’t take anymore and suitably bails, leaving poor old Bart to fend off nightly attacks. But years pass and he finds comfort in his music which sees him become part of the Glee Club contingent at his local school, and continue his fleeting dalliance with church-camp crush Shannon (Madeline Carroll).

But his father’s lack of approval becomes to much for him and set’s his sights for Oklahoma - hoping to become a big star and leave his past days as a victim behind him. In one of those “right place at the right time” scenarios, Bart lands a gig singing lead vocals for a faith-based rock group with an absentee vocalist - and before long they catch the eye of the local manager Brickell (Trace Adkins). Erwin’s drama kicks into gear here, with oddly engaging set-pieces of the band touring across America at the behest of record label interference. Bolstered immensely by newcomer Michael J Finley’s exquisite voice, there’s a functionality around these moments yet admittedly they are visually arresting, despite their cheesy pop-video sensibility.

The rags-to-riches story becomes the basis of one half of the drama, yet the director isn’t keen for us to forget the struggle. So every now and then we return to Greenville for another heap of abuse from Dennis Quaid’s embittered Arthur - whether it’s the occasional hit-around-the-head with a plate, to the stock “dreams don’t pay the bills” psychological abuse, Bart's difficult upbringing is always front and center of the drama. But it’s all a too tedious after a while, even if Quaid is doing his sultry best to keep you engaged - sometimes the on-screen disintegration of Arthur is too broad in it's execution, and it appears that he's a man simply fighting his demons than struggling with any debilitating hardships.

By the time Bart finds the courage to write our chart-topping hit - which will catapult them from obscurity to stardom - you’ve been beaten to death by faith-based sanctimony and clichéd abuse sequences that you hope to whoever’s listening that the resulting number at least gives you cause to celebrate. Here’s a shocker, it’s so instantly forgettable, even if it has inspired millions with it’s religious undertones, all of Erwin’s drama is as flat and forgettable as it’s multi-platinum record, and it never delves into the reasoning behind it's juggernaut success.

It’s tough to say then, whether people will flock to multiplexes this weekend to seek out “I Can Only Imagine”, which was co-written by and helmed by one half the "Mum’s Night Out" and "Woodlawn" directors and Brent McCorkle - for it’s undercurrent of faith-based inspiration or as part of the hardcore MercyMe contingent - which i’m sure there are many. Regardless of the reasons, they're doubtful to be delighted they ventured so - as though there is a credible interest in the history surrounding our lead actors tale, it’s rampant self-importance is so broad and you wonder why they didn’t just condense it down to the 85-minute Hallmark channel offering it always had the potential of being.

Rating 2/5