En avant la musique: A charming, dusty relic

Is it worth your time?

Honestly, you probably already know if you're the target audience for En avant la musique. If you like black-and-white musical numbers that feel like they were pulled straight from a dusty attic, you’ll find something to smile about. If you get annoyed by thin plots that act like they’re deep, you’re gonna hate every second of this.

It’s not trying to be Broken Lullaby or anything heavy. It’s just fluff. But sometimes, you know, we need the fluff.

The vibe

Guy Rapp and Maïtena Lurault are doing their best to keep the energy up, but you can definitely tell when the budget starts to pinch. There’s a scene about halfway through—I think they’re in a dressing room?—where the dialogue just drags on for way too long. It feels like they were trying to fill space because the song rehearsal went over time or something. Awkward.

The music itself? It’s cute. Not exactly groundbreaking, but it’s got that specific rhythm that makes you want to tap your foot even when the cinematography feels a bit... static. It’s not as energetic as Western Pep, which is a totally different beast, but it has its own weird, quiet charm.

Small things that stuck with me

• The way the extras in the background sometimes just stop dancing because they forgot the steps.
• The lighting that makes everyone look like they’re being watched by a very suspicious flashlight.
• Christiane Delyne has this one look she gives the camera that’s either 'I’m acting' or 'I left the oven on at home.'

The movie gets noticeably better when it stops pretending it has a story to tell and just lets the performers do their thing. There is a moment near the end where everything finally clicks. It’s fleeting. It’s barely there.

It reminds me a bit of the frantic energy in Stupid, But Brave, though clearly aimed at a different kind of crowd. You can almost feel the director hoping the audience doesn't notice the seams showing. We noticed. But it’s okay! 🎶

Don't expect a masterpiece. Just take it for what it is—a bit of noise, some singing, and a lot of old-fashioned effort. Sometimes that’s enough for a rainy Tuesday night.