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For a generation or two of Mormons, "Saturday's Warrior" is a cultural artifact and an object of nostalgia — the first stage musical made by and for Mormons outside the official sanction of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
But since its 1974 debut, the material and messages within composer Lex de Azevedo and lyricist Doug Stewart haven't aged particularly well — as the new movie version, long anticipated by its fans, proves in spite of solid efforts to update and contextualize the story.
That story starts in a heavenly realm, what Mormons call the premortal existence. It's a transfer point where a Heavenly Guide (played by popular Utah singer Alex Boyé) directs souls who are waiting for their turn to be born on Earth. (Appropriately for a transitory spot, it's filmed in the Union Station train depot in Ogden.)
Two such souls are Tod (Mason D. Davis) and Julie (Monica Moore Smith), who have fallen in love up there and hope to be placed near each other on Earth. Meanwhile, Julie and her seven siblings in the Flinders family also await their births — with the oldest, Jimmy (newcomer Kenny Holland), assuring the youngest, Emily (Abigail Baugh), that he will make sure their parents don't stop having kids until all eight are born.
On Earth in the early 1970s (the time "Saturday's Warrior" first hit the stage), everyone forgets the promises made in the pre-existence. Julie has promised to be true to Wally (Clint Pulver), an overconfident LDS elder about to go on his mission. Meanwhile, the seven Flinders kids — Emily hasn't been born yet — and their parents (Brian Clark and Alison Akin Clark) have formed a Partridge Family-like singing group.
Jimmy, the lead guitarist, wants to strike out on his own with his rock-band pals, who fill his head with talk supporting zero population growth and legalized abortion. They even put those views in a song, which rockets up the charts and makes the band, called Warrior, famous — and leads Jimmy to criticize his parents for having an eighth child, who will become Emily.
While Jimmy wrestles with his conscience, Wally and his mission partner, Greene (Morgan Gunter), scour San Francisco for potential converts. The only likely prospect is a street artist and spiritual seeker who — unknown to them but not the audience — is Julie's pre-existence soulmate, Tod.
Rookie director Michael Buster, a veteran actor in LDS-themed productions, labors mightily to scale back on the theatrical cheese of de Azevedo's original theatrical production. He and his co-screenwriter, Heather Ravarino, try to ground the story in some sort of reality, for example by making the Flinders family musicians — all the better to break into song on cue.
Purists may be upset at how much Buster and de Azevedo, one of the film's producers, have cut from the theatrical version. But for everyone else, what's still here is a time capsule of the tacky '70s, an explosion of paisley and bell bottoms that's as quaint as the political arguments. (Does anybody still talk about zero population growth?)
The oversimplified theology, of spirit children and soulmates, also seems like a creaky anachronism with some holes in logic. How do the Flinders siblings know they're all going to the same family, while the lovers don't know if they will meet on Earth? How does one group of preborn souls know Heavenly Father's plan, while another is left in the dark?
For the devoted following this musical has built over four decades, the movie will feel like a familiar throwback. For the rest of us, "Saturday's Warrior" isn't likely to gain any new converts.
Twitter: @moviecricket —
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'Saturday's Warrior'
The movie version of the much-beloved Mormon musical will satisfy the faithful, even if it feels stuck in the '70s.
Where • Area theaters.
When • Opens Friday, April 1.
Rating • PG for thematic elements throughout.
Running time • 120 minutes.