Sing Street, film review: 'A tremendous sing along that loses momentum'

For at least half its running length Sing Street is tremendous: a coming of age story set in early 80s Dublin that has the comic poignance and truthfulness of a Gregory's Girl or a Son Rambow. Set in Dublin, it is the story of Conor (Ferdia Walsh-Pello), a teenager from a posh but cash-strapped family sent to a rough inner city Catholic school.

Here, in order to impress the beautiful but enigmatic orphan and would-be model Raphina (Lucy Boynton) and to escape the attentions of the local skinhead, he forms a band with some fellow school misfits.

The film offers a moving and very funny account of a germ filled adolescence in the post-punk era. We are in a world of Duran Duran and The Cure. In emulation of these musical heroes, Conor announces that the band is "futurist." He manages to persuade Raphina to appear in the pop videos he and Sing Street are shooting in back alleys and on the sea front on a camcorder.

They're a talented bunch who write catchy but pretentious songs with titles like "the riddle of the model." Conor quickly blossoms as a singer-songwriter.

His music is inspired by tumultuous events in his private life (notably the break-up of his parents' marriage) but is also a way of escape. As the object of his affection, Boynton has the same elfin charm that Clare Grogan brought to Gregory's Girl all those years ago.

The disappointment here is that Sing Street doesn't sustain its early momentum and becomes ever more maudlin, melodramatic and earnest the longer it lasts.

The magic of its early scenes dissipates and, by the final reel, the film risks becoming as kitsch and improbable as one of those Duran Duran videos that the band likes to spoof.