Hugh Jackman and Kate Hudson sing the hits

A sweet helping of sad and happy corn done right, Song sung in blue tells the remarkable true story of a Milwaukee auto mechanic and his hairdresser wife who face tough times together but never let their dream die – even while on life support during the hardest times. While it may sound like Hallmark molasses, Craig Brewer’s captivating tale of the triumphs and tribulations of a Neil Diamond tribute act is grounded in real feelings and irresistibly catchy music. Above all, it’s buoyed by winning performances from an ideal couple, Hugh Jackman and Kate Hudson, the latter doing her best work since Almost Famous.

I admit that I was an easy target for this film. A key childhood memory is of sitting on my aunt’s living room floor – she was groovy enough to have a “feature wall” of contrasting wallpaper – playing Hot August night double album from start to finish while everyone was outside digesting the barbecue. By the time I got to high school, Diamond’s music wasn’t considered cool, so naturally, I disavowed any fondness for her. But decades later, his songs have become a vehicle for time travel; I was surprised to find that I knew almost every word. I guess it’s obvious Song sung in blue won me over.

There’s no denying that this is a true baby boomer movie, which raises the question of whether this generation can still be pushed to the multiplex and whether younger audiences will even be a little curious.

But it’s the kind of robust entertainment – wholesome but not at all toothless, by turns joyful and heartbreaking – that doesn’t get made much anymore, and which should boost word of mouth for Focus Features’ Christmas release. It is a family film in the best sense, which will please the audience with a lot of heart.

Jackman plays Mike Sardina, a divorced Vietnam veteran who celebrates his 20th anniversary of sobriety in the late ’80s when he meets Claire Stengl (Hudson) at a “Legends” concert at the Wisconsin State Fair. The bill includes Elvis impersonators Willie Nelson, Streisand, James Brown and Buddy Holly, the latter being the specialty of Michael Imperioli’s Mark Shurilla, who is also the show’s promoter.

Mike, who plays self-proclaimed rock god “Lightning”, bows out after a disagreement with Mark, but not before exchanging some flirty banter with Claire. When she is about to become Patsy Cline, she tells him that he should play Neil Diamond.

From Agitation and fluidity through the brilliant Eddie Murphy vehicle Dolemite is my namewriter-director Brewer showed an affinity for underdogs seeking fulfillment as performers. It’s obvious what drew him to Greg Kohs’ 2008 documentary of the same name about the husband and wife duo. Brewer works in a more conventional style here than some of his previous films, but there’s a sincerity and emotional authenticity to this film that suggests deep personal investment, not to mention hardcore music fandom.

Composer Scott Bomar serves as executive music producer, and song after song is an uplifting coup de grace. Naturally, “Sweet Caroline” gets the royal treatment, but just as Mike insists that there’s much more to Neil Diamond than this oversaturated, infernally catchy hit and its lilting chorus, the film also casts a wide net over Diamond’s extensive catalog.

Some of the most memorable tracks include the romantic ballad “Play Me”, the spiritual “Soolaimon”, the moving gospel-tinged “Holly Holy” and the even more uplifting “Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show”. Unlike so many music biopics that toss together frustrating song fragments just to run through all the biggest hits, Brewer gives the songs space to play out at length, with editor Billy Fox’s numerous edits serving to both amplify and advance the narrative.

This approach is evident from the first time Mike visits Claire with an album of Neil Diamond sheet music to give her ideas for her act. At the end of the first session, he asked her to be Thunder to his Lightning and the two surrendered to their mutual attraction. Jackman and Hudson’s chemistry makes you root for their characters as a couple And like a musical act.

Scenes that by rights should be striking clichés somehow end up disarming. One is the first full rehearsal in Mike’s garage, with his longtime associates The Esquires on horns and keyboards, and Mark on guitar, after deciding he was too old to continue impersonating Buddy Holly, who died at 22. They blast through “Crunchy Granola Suite” with such enthusiasm, Mike and Claire sharing vocal duties, that even the grumpy neighbor across the street dances while watering his lawn.

Claire is also a refugee from a broken marriage, prone to bouts of depression, but singing is a great way to lift her spirits, as is Mike. His son Dayna (Hudson Hensley) is easily won over by his new stepfather, while his teenage daughter Rachel (Ella Anderson) is more resistant. But she also returns after forming a quick friendship and sharing a joint with Mike’s daughter, Angelina (indie musician King Princess), who came from Florida where she lives with her mother.

Mike’s dentist, Dr. Dave Watson (Fisher Stevens), who doubles as his manager, puts the duo in touch with low-rent casino booker Tom D’Amato (an amusing, cartoonish Jim Belushi). He ruins their first major gig by promising an RV convention audience and starting a motorcycle club, strictly ZZ Top. But out of that wreckage came a marriage proposal, and soon the Lightning and Thunder were a sensation in Milwaukee, receiving local media coverage and an enthusiastic audience.

Their big break comes when Eddie Vedder (John Beckwith) calls, asking them to open for Pearl Jam. (Yes, this actually happened!) But just when you start to wonder if there will be significant conflict, tragedy strikes, sidelining Claire and sending her into a serious depression and anger. Mike tries to make the best of things by hosting karaoke nights at a family Thai restaurant where the owner (Shyaporn Theerakulstit) is a big fan of Neil Diamond. But without Claire, performing on stage loses its magic for him.

The repeated misfortunes in these characters’ lives elicit notes of pathos, even if some, like Rachel’s unplanned pregnancy, receive minimal airtime. But the film keeps you on board through spiraling lows and resilient highs — even through three endings when one would have been enough — largely because the leads are so charming.

Jackman is no stranger to this kind of dreamy showman. His exuberant personality and natural humor make him an ideal fit for performance elements, whether it’s singing “Cracklin’ Rosie” in his underwear while practicing his Neil moves or belting out hits on stage in ’70s dagger-collared satin shirts and sequinned jackets, his hair flowing at the whim of a fan. But the actor does not neglect the soul of his character either.

The real surprise, however, is Hudson, giving a vanity-free performance that makes her entirely believable as a Midwestern hairdresser and loving mother whose happiness when performing is infectious and her devastation heartbreaking.

Her versions of the Patsy Cline evergreens “Walkin’ After Midnight” and “Sweet Dreams” are rich, warm and full-bodied. She also matches Jackman note for note in wonderful performance interludes, in which Mike and Claire’s love radiates over the audience, and she soars in a solo on Diamond’s soft rock ballad “I’ve Been This Way Before.”

Imperioli, Anderson, Stevens and Belushi skillfully direct this seductive ensemble in a film that is sweet but never sickly, even when it borders on schmaltz. Brewer’s direction is polished and unfussy, trusting the strength of the characters and their stranger-than-fiction story to get the job done, always grounded in bittersweet real-life experience.