Quartet aims for a blend of mischievous charm and wry
poignancy, and just barely hits the mark, largely thanks to a talented cast and
assured direction papering over the flimsy script and by-the-numbers plot. Set
in a cushy-looking home for retired musicians, the film depicts the travails of
the titular foursome, a band of top-drawer opera singers now coming to terms
with the bittersweet reality of aging. Tortured romantic history and
professional self-doubt swirl around for a while, as Maggie Smith’s once-mighty
operatic dame struggles to adapt to her new, rather eccentric surroundings (the
elegant home is a hotbed of jostling personalities) and her waning faculties.
Attractive vistas and effortlessly commanding acting elevates the material to
something more than the sum of its parts, though it may be a matter of taste
whether you’re able to forgive the transparent plot mechanics (most notably a
brazenly blatant eleventh hour deus ex machine) and the sanitised depiction of
aged fragility (barely anyone in the luxurious surroundings of Beecham House
appears to be seriously frail, and the few who are soon bounce back with jolly
stoicism). In short, no masterpiece, but diverting enough, with snatches of
poetry amidst the twee.
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