Mighty Oak Goes for Moldy Melodrama

An extra dose of disbelief is required to accept the soapy and stumbling melodrama of Mighty Oak. For this grand showcase of a young kid rocking a guitar on stage to a crowd of avid rock enthusiasts, many baffling elements are thrown into the mix. In its attempt at a sincere plucking of the heartstrings, it misses so many notes it’s hard to watch.

From the first few scenes, the film holds our hands far too tight on the tour of meeting the rock band Army of Love. The setting is boldly pronounced as the early 2000s, with the band pawing over an iPod and making wild speculations about the device running our lives in the future. With that laughably bad establishment of the era, the story proceeds to its tragic inciting incident, in which Army of Love’s lead vocalist, Vaughn (Levi Dylan), is killed in a car crash. The band is distraught, especially Vaughn’s sister Gina (Janel Parrish). Time passes, and the group splits up.

In the present day, the band members have taken on odd jobs. Some work in music shops, others at a diner. Guitarist Pedro gives lessons to a student he has little hope for—but then comes Oak (Tommy Ragen). Though Oak lives with a mother addicted to drugs and unable to care for herself, he tries to keep his life together and sets his aspirations toward music. When he graces Pedro with his guitar skills, learned from watching others, Pedro is astonished by Oak’s amazing skills. Maybe he has what it takes to be a rock star. Maybe he could inspire the old band to get back together again.

Here’s where things start flying off the rails. Gina, observing everything about Oak, believes he is the reincarnation of her brother. Oak plays the same as Vaughn, draws the same as Vaughn, and probably even sneezes the same. The one crucial event that makes her think this is not a coincidence is that Oak’s mother was present during the car crash that killed Vaughn. Don’t worry—this isn’t some spiritual awakening that spurs Gina to form a Christian rock band or believe in the power of souls. It appears as though she more or less takes the information as a sign that the band needs to keep on rocking despite their age. At least, this is as much as I got from Gina’s investigation, during which she bickers with her bandmates about Oak’s drawing of a monkey looking similar to Vaughn’s drawing of a monkey. This leads to a pointless debate about whether or not modern kids know about Speed Racer.

With Mighty Oak being a rock drama, there are certainly plenty of performances that are not too shabby, but they serve as mild amusements along a very clunky road. It always feels as though aspects of the melodrama seem to get in the way of enjoying the music sequences. Consider how Gina records Oak’s performances for his busy mother to watch later. She posts it online, where, wow, there are multiple angles edited in from throughout the crowd. How many cameramen did she hire for this viral video? That’s a minor complaint of believability, I know, but the film doesn’t leave much room to ignore these oversights. Though the ensemble can play a decent tune, they seriously struggle to act their way through the hollow emotions of their tale.

While initially just a tiring slog, the film started to downright aggravate me in how it takes alternate and displeasing routes. When Oak’s performance goes viral on YouTube, we want to be excited for a young kid landing such numbers, but the film soon reveals not all is as it seems. Oak’s mother becomes a tragic case study in drug addiction, yet her situation is explained away with her having a medical condition. It is also in really poor taste that in order for Oak to convince his caring grandparents to let him play with the band, he has to fake a letter from his mother to convince them. The grandparents seem gentle and understanding enough that Oak could simply give them a good talk about how he needs to get on stage, but the film wants us to believe he must deceive them for the sin of not letting him drink coffee. Oh, and the grandparents also whisk him away to Minnesota, where the only thing interesting for a kid is apparently the Mall of America. So does the film want us to believe Minnesota is so boring that it requires faking a parent’s letter to get out? This is not going to play well to a Twin Cities crowd.

Mighty Oak never quite convinces in its stumbling melodrama, which comes across about as forced and subpar as a halfhearted TV special. Its quirky contemplation pales in comparison to the more competent rock numbers, generic as they are. The bland ballad of the child prodigy and the grieving sister seeking a soul never quite resonates, and the most memorable part of the picture I found to be a small supporting role for Raven-Symoné, feeling like the most natural inclusion of the local rock scene. Everything else is artificial—both the film’s coming-of-age yearning and its back-from-defeat band saga.