It is time to be honest. The thought of rushing out to the theater to see a musical docudrama about a bunch of old people putting on a concert isn't at the top of the fun list, right?

It isn't at the top of mine either, but it is the one springtime offering that is going to afford us the rare chance to see a chorus full of real-life golden girls hoofing it up and singing their hearts out to the tunes of some of the most popular musical groups of the modern era.

The infectious spirit of the big-screen musical is one of the most durable staples of popular film and is one of the hardest acts to pull off. In the last decade alone, the popular success of "Chicago" and "Moulin Rouge!" has opened the door for a smorgasbord of non-traditional musical adaptations and there is nothing more non-traditional than the sight of cheerful octogenarians performing the music of their grandchildren's generation.

The dread-inducing premise of "Young@Heart" isn't as high-concept as it sounds. It is a musical celebration of marching to a different drummer and triumphing against the rigors of age. There are a good deal of life-affirming clichés to be found here, but the message that being old is not equal to being dead is a profound one, and it could be enough to turn it into a sleeper hit for the boomer generation. 

The titular chorus - a group of Northampton, Mass. retirees turned senior pop singers - spend their time not on the golf course or tuning into soap operas but touring the U.S. and abroad re-interpreting the catalogues of The Clash, Prince and Coldplay to the delight of sold-out audiences.

The iconoclastic seniors here are not about to go into that gentle night. The fact that most of them prefer opera and classical music to the harder-tinged music of their act is no matter since all of them appreciate the unique challenges the songs present and there is a real sense of camaraderie among the group.

The musical numbers do succeed in bringing a smile to our faces. I'd need to be Scrooge himself to suggest that it didn't. It is hard to begrudge them their turn in the spotlight since their personalities are full of so much surprising good cheer and optimism.

Its greatest accomplishment is that it captures the cross-generational appeal of the music it is highlighting. The fact that the median age in this chorus is 85 is daunting enough in itself, but their commitment to the music is contagious.

The non-singing portions feel flat-footed in comparison. It is a shame since the chorus members are an engaging group of good people and I became more interested in their collected personal histories than in seeing them rehearse "(I Got You) I Feel Good" for the umpteenth time. The common thread among all of them is the fact that performing has created a refuge from hospital rooms, absent families and the harsh realities of getting old.

There is a significant cute factor to the proceedings and it should come as no surprise that the chorus members indulge in a great deal of mugging for the cameras. It is an affable motion picture that intermingles concert footage, onstage antics and an all-access director's pass at the rehearsal process, but can't quite sustain itself as a feature film.

The rambling, episodic structure is ideal for an hour-long short film, but it has been spread out to a patience-stretching 110 minutes. There are at least 40 minutes that could be cut and still accomplish the same effect. The pathos is genuine and the enthusiasm is infectious, but there isn't much dramatic momentum. The absence of real dramatic focus becomes more glaring as the film progresses.

The main focus of the month-and-a-half long rehearsal process - as the chorus prepares for an upcoming tour - consists of them sitting in chairs and singing and not much else. The members are of course hard of hearing and therein lies most of the humor. The rehearsal sessions are supposed to be hilarious, but it didn't do much for me. The drama of the chorus members mastering the multiple headache-inducing "can-cans" of "Yes We Can Can" is amusing at first, but becomes repetitious at about the fourth and fifth time. There are a lot of old people punchlines and complaints about the intricate song selections, but there isn't much conflict.

The affection for the real-life participants is palpable right off the bat, but that is also the main problem. The peppier first half relies far too much on the audience's affection for laughing at old people doing cute things as opposed to situations that generate genuine laughs.

The countless hours of footage has been edited onto a sitcom-esque format and has the aftereffect of condescending to the participants rather than celebrating them. It doesn't help that the film's director narrates the proceedings in a dull BBC-esque manner and insists on pushing himself into the film as much as possible. I don't mind narration in documentaries - it can be a helpful tool - but here it is a self-conscious and self-indulgent distraction from the main focus.

The more serious-minded second half is much better. It leads up to the tried-and-true concert finale and there are some unpleasant surprises as the film goes on. The cute factor is dropped for the most part as the middle-aged musical director, Bob Cilman, calls in a couple of former group members. In light of the age of the characters, the specter of death is a constant reminder. It is bound to come up at some point and, to its credit, the film addresses it in a matter-of-fact fashion that is admirable.

This is most clear in the group's performance at Hampshire Jail in the aftermath of the death of one of their members. Trust me, this is not a spoiler. There is nothing glib about the emotion and grief that permeates their singing, and for a moment, it soars right into the stratosphere. In this moment alone, the film becomes that much deeper and more profound. The camera pans across their faces and the inmates aren't alone in tearing up. 

The audience is too.