The Wishing Stone: Why Is Everyone Singing Instead of Calling for Help?

Is this thing worth your time?

If you like movies that feel like a fever dream you had after eating too much cheese before bed, sure. If you need, I don't know, logic or a coherent plot, stay far away. This is for people who enjoy watching vintage musical acts more than they enjoy watching actual storytelling.

So, the plane crashes. Everyone is perfectly fine. No injuries, no panic, no air traffic control nightmare. Instead, the main guy, Dave, is just really worried about his upcoming gigs in New York. Priorities, right?

Then someone pulls out a magical Hawaiian wishing stone. Because of course they do. Naturally.

Instead of wishing for a rescue or a new plane, they start zapping themselves to random locations. Every time they land somewhere new, they immediately break into a full-scale musical revue. It’s like they’re being held hostage by their own choreography.

The Logic Gap

Dave doesn't even have the stone. He’s just tagging along, being grumpy about his missing paycheck while everyone else is teleporting around singing songs. It’s a very weird dynamic.

I found myself staring at the background extras during the musical numbers. Some of them look genuinely confused about why they are suddenly in a different country, dancing in a line. It’s almost as funny as the plot itself.

• The special effects for the 'wishing' are just jump cuts that make you feel like you’re having a mild stroke.
• The musical numbers are actually pretty solid, which makes the insanity around them even weirder.
• I’m still not sure why a magical stone can’t just teleport them to the gig, but hey, then we wouldn't have a movie.

It reminds me a bit of the frantic energy in A Ticket in Tatts, where things just happen because the script needs them to. There’s no buildup. There’s just doing.

Is it better than Sleeping Beauty? Honestly, they aren't even playing the same sport. One is a classic fable, the other is a musical hostage situation involving a piece of jewelry from Hawaii.

I caught myself wondering if the pilot was still sitting in the wreckage while everyone else was off performing jazz hands in a village somewhere. The movie never tells us. It just doesn't care.

It’s the kind of film that stops being a movie and starts being a weird, disjointed stage show. You’ll probably forget the plot before the credits finish rolling, but you might find yourself humming one of the tunes. It’s charming, if only because it is so completely, utterly broken. 🎶