Stream It Or Skip It: ‘The High Note’ On HBO, a Music-Biz Rom-Dramedy Enlivened by Tracee Ellis Ross

The High Note is another movie whose theatrical release was scuttled to on-demand platforms thanks to the COVID-19 pandemic. Please note that any film considered blockbuster-worthy was punted down the release schedule, and medium-smallish movies like this get an at-home release, their qualities gauged in a different light — the light of your living room. And if anything seems ripe for an it-works-better-on-your-couch-than-at-a-theater retroactive assessment, it’s The High Note, now streaming on HBO.

THE HIGH NOTE: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

The Gist: Grace Davis is a fictional legendary singer played by Tracee Ellis Ross, the daughter of a real legendary singer, Diana Ross, because that’s either convenient and tidy, or she can lend deeper insight to the character. Anyway, Grace has enough status and cash flow to afford a private jet, opulent mansion and people on her personal payroll. One of the latter is Maggie (Dakota Johnson), her personal assistant of three year. She’s by turns the object of Grace’s affection and abuse. One moment, Grace opens up and shares her feelings with Maggie, the next she she puts her in her place by cruelly pooh-poohing her dreams of being a music producer.

Maggie is a walking encyclopedia of music trivia — you know, who produced this record and what session drummer has great feel on that record, that kind of tedious thing. She drives an old Rambler or Duster or Combuster when she isn’t piloting Grace’s sharply angled Italian sports car, picking up dry cleaning and fetching smoothies or accommodating a last-minute request to pick up Grace when she’s tipsy after a date with Michael B. Jordan ended up being just a business proposition from Michael B. Jordan. Maggie isn’t unhappy, but neither is she un-unhappy. There are worse jobs than being directly in the employ of a highly demanding diva she admires, but she has a good set of ears, and wants to put them to use for something other than receiving orders for menial tasks.

Such is the status quo, but as these things go, it’s about to be upset. Maggie secretly has been working on her own mix of Grace’s impending live album; the singer’s big-time manager Jack (Ice Cube) cashed in a heavy wad of cache to land a big-time producer, and isn’t too keen on the lowly starry-eyed personal assistant’s attempt to express an opinion. Grace, meanwhile, sounds great and packs arenas, but zoomed by her commercial peak a few years ago. Her most recent studio record is 10 years old, and Jack is pushing her to accept a lucrative offer for a Vegas residency, which she sees as an admission of dinosaurdom. And she’s not about to listen to her lowly starry-eyed personal assistant’s attempt to express an opinion about making a new album, either.

Meanwhile, Maggie meets a charming fellow, David (Kelvin Harrison Jr.), at the local Wholesome Foodery — and is gobsmacked when he takes the stage for a Wholesome Foodery parking lot concert and shows off his gold pipes. She wants to produce him, and he wants to be produced, nudge wink! They meet for some writing sessions and recording sessions that turn into the inevitable smooching sessions. Thing is, she talks herself up to David as a full-time in-demand music producer and selectively withholds the truth that she’s just a lowly starry-eyed personal assistant to Grace Davis, and we start to feel like we’re sitting on an atomic bomb, waiting for it to go off.

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Dilute the browbeaten-personal-assistant parts of The Devil Wears Prada with whole milk; blend bits of the past-their-prime music-biz artist-or-commodity stuff of Crazy Heart, Vox Lux, A Star is Born and/or, um, Glitter into a bland paste; stir; use to wash down dry saltines.

Performance Worth Watching: Despite the screenplay being a greatest hits comp of cliches, Johnson and Ross ignite a few chemical sparks here and there — the latter is an ego-driven point of friction, and the former is the spoonful of sugar that makes the drama palatable. Ross is the true standout though, showing charisma and vulnerability in a reasonably complex portrait of stardom gone ever-so-slightly mad.

Memorable Dialogue: Grace reveals the essence of her character like so: “I may have said some things that may have hurt someone’s feelings, and for that, I forgive myself.”

Sex and Skin: Nothing to get worked up about.

Our Take: I found The High Note to be a lesson in cognitive dissonance: I didn’t buy any of this tripe, but enjoyed it nonetheless. The characters are a little loosey-goosey. The direction is pedestrian. Bill Pullman shows up for an extended cameo, a very Pullmanesquel slab-o’-ham performance as Maggie’s dad. Maggie’s music-fandom dialogue is phony, as if High Fidelity had been force-fed American cheese. Ice Cube drops a HAILL NAW bomb, as he’s no doubt contractually obligated to do with every public appearance. Maggie has a goofball roommate (Zoe Chao) for comic relief. Dramatic moments are tamped down lest the movie cease being nice. And a wild third-act turn of events would be too embarrassing for even the grimiest telenovela.

The movie has so many problems, and is kind of a mess. But it’s so well-cast — Johnson, Ross and Harrison are the honey sweetening up this watery tea. Imagine Johnson’s dingbat lightweight 50 Shades character, but with a sneaky feminist assertiveness, and you’ve got Maggie. If this were a better screenplay, Ross’ performance might be a tour-de-force; as it is, it’s richer than the movie’s ambitions. And Harrison has a great voice and meshes well with Johnson on screen, even though his character is grossly underwritten, barely more than a plot device. They assure this breezy dramedy is more watchable than it is ramshackle.

Our Call: STREAM IT. Watch The High Note. Enjoy The High Note. Forget The High Note. Be happy you didn’t leave the house and pay $15 to see The High Note. Could be worse!

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Read more of his work at johnserbaatlarge.com or follow him on Twitter: @johnserba.

Where to watch The High Note On Demand