As a born and raised fan of the Iowa State Cyclones, I have a special connection to “Sweet Caroline.” Dating back to the mid-2000s, the classic Neil Diamond song has been used as a victory chant for all home athletic games. It’s catchy, with a nice pace and easy-to-learn lyrics, capping off a win with a celebratory walkout song. It even plays before the official school anthem, further proving its ranking amongst fans. Granted, the Cyclones don’t have a monopoly on the song, as it originated from the Boston Red Sox and is also regularly played during games hosted by other colleges such as Wisconsin, South Carolina, and Boston College.

Despite hailing from the Badger State, Mike Sardina (Hugh Jackman) has a complicated relationship with that song. He worships at the altar of Neil Diamond, proclaiming him to be one of the greatest singer-songwriters that America has ever had. He despises the fact that a poppy chart topper like “Sweet Caroline” has become the only thing Diamond is known for, all while he’s produced hundreds of other acclaimed songs, including the one this film gets its title from. It’s why he doesn’t ever include Neil in his tribute acts, as he knows people won’t appreciate the artistry of the catalogue and just clamour for him to play the one song everybody knows.

When we first meet Mike, he’s singing the titular song at his local AA meeting, celebrating his twentieth “sober birthday.” He gives the group a whole presentation, aiming for their hearts and souls, all while offering some humor and good old-fashioned showmanship. It’s what he hopes to bring to the bars and casinos around Milwaukee, although none of the other tribute artists want him to branch away from what sells. A middle-aged Michael Imperioli plays a Buddy Holly impersonator, which is quite the joke considering that Holly died at twenty-two.

Claire (Kate Hudson) is the only one who sees the true passion that Mike is bringing to the shows. Like him, she’s another working-class person who just wants to sing their troubles away. That passion, along with the fact that they’re the only two people who look like movie stars in this frozen tundra, is what ignites their romance. They decide to partner up to put on a Neil Diamond experience, with him taking on the moniker of “Lightning,” and she as “Thunder.” 

The story of a real-life underdog defying obstacles to express their artistic passion is not new territory for writer/director Craig Brewer. Terrence Howard received an Oscar nomination for playing a pimp turned rapper in 2005’s Hustle & Flow, and Eddie Murphy got his comeback role as blaxploitation legend Rudy Ray Moore in Dolemite Is My Name. These films, along with Song Sung Blue, carry a big heart, rallying the crowd to its feet with down-to-earth stories of perseverance. Channeling those themes through the music of Neil Diamond is what makes this film quite entertaining throughout the first hour, with the central duo being bigger than life.

For both Mike and Claire, and the film itself, it all falls apart once the darkness starts to block out the light. This is based on a “true love story” and has already been covered by a documentary of the same name, so I don’t feel too bad about revealing that a freak car accident leaves Claire unable to perform. But that’s only the first of a series of tragedies that befall the Sardinas, making them join the Von Erichs as one of the most cursed families in America. Unlike Sean Durkin, who was able to make the unbelievable feel so real in The Iron Claw, Brewer keeps everything so heightened that it unintentionally circles back from high drama to parody. Pills are popped, speeches are made, and things happen at the exact right or wrong moment. There’s a subplot about Claire’s teenage daughter having an unwanted pregnancy, with the resolution being an adoption that is shot and acted with the same energy as someone finally selling a piece of furniture on Facebook Marketplace.

The performances are fine and charming, although they also get too big for their own good. Jackman seems to be thinking he’s playing for the back row of a Broadway audience in the film’s later stretches. Mike may not have wanted to become a Neil Diamond cliché, but that’s exactly the kind of movie he’s appearing in. I’ll still be singing “Sweet Caroline” after every Cyclone victory.