Movie review: ‘Northern Soul’

Well before there was hip-hop or house, trap or trance, there was northern soul, an underground dance movement born a half-century ago in the industrial wilds of the northern England that fetishized obscure ‘60s American R&B and elevated the club DJ to hero. Related to the concurrent mod scene, both were major subcultures in the U.K., spawning their own dance moves, slang and fashions.

All of that is what makes the film Northern Soul, a longtime labor of love for director/writer Elaine Constantine, a fascinating reflection on an era that remains largely unknown in the U.S. Too bad then that the music and the memories are strapped to a largely predictable plot.

Elliot James Langridge is John Clark, a no-hoper of a kid in a rundown city in 1974 who, on a visit to a local youth club, helps save Matt (Josh Whitehouse) from getting beat up. It turns out Matt is a northern soul devotee and aspiring DJ who introduces John to his world of rare vinyl, sweaty clubs, and fistsful of amphetamines.

Their goal is to get to America but can their friendship survive the excesses and the cops? A more intriguing story line involves John’s budding relationship with Angela (Antonia Thomas), nurse by day, clubgoer by night, and one of the few black residents in town.

The music (Edwin Starr, The Salvadores, and tons more) is often glorious, the look feels right, the acting is solid (Steve Coogan has a small role), and the northern English accents are appropriately as thick as plum pudding.

To those not from the U.K., for whom this will be an eye-opening glance into an underworld they know little about, that may be more than enough.

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This story was originally published October 1, 2015 at 12:28 PM with the headline "Movie review: ‘Northern Soul’."