One of the running gags in Fox's effervescent hit high school series Glee is that no matter how things occasionally come up roses for the show choir freaks and geeks of McKinley High, there's always someone, slushie in hand, waiting to take the Gleeks down a peg or two back to cold, brutal reality. Ironically, it's that same multicolored frozen treat, globbed at the screen in slow-motion over the end credits of Glee: The 3D Concert Movie, that underscores a similar, sad burst of recognition that's perhaps been long coming: For all the uplifting, inclusive good that Glee inspires in its young target demographic, it's a property that's become high on its own self-projected, self-congratulatory fantasy of "fuck the haters" do-goodingness. And there's nothing more that Glee needs or deserves right now than a slushie to the face.
Forget the ugly media storm over who is and is not graduating next year or who found out about it on Twitter or who blamed it all on egos and miscommunication (to the point that a potential spin-off for leads Cory Monteith, Lea Michele, and Chris Colfer was taken off the table seemingly out of spite); Glee as a property has more immediate problems to address in its first big-screen outing, a 3-D spectacle no less touted as a definitive cinematic experience for fans of the show. For starters: Glee: The 3D Concert Movie, filmed in performance during two 2011 East Rutherford, NJ, stops at the tail end of the Glee Live! In Concert! Tour, can't make its mind up about what, exactly, it is.
That identity crisis makes Glee 3D bizarrely uncomfortable to watch. (Say what you will about the show; its teen protagonists at least, for the most part, know who they are.) Glee 3D purports to be a concert documentary, but while director Kevin Tancharoen (of Fame remake fame and the Mortal Kombat Web series) dutifully mixes a ton of performances from the stage tour with backstage moments with the cast and copious footage of excited fans in and around the venue, he only partially conveys the experience of being at a Glee live concert.
Instead, Tancharoen spends a surprising amount of time interviewing a handful of Glee fanatics at home, outcasts or misfits all, who credit the show with inspiring them, saving their lives, etc. There's a bubbly teen girl who loves being a real-life Cheerio despite her dwarfism. The gay kid who credits Colfer's Kurt for emboldening him to come out of the closet. The withdrawn young lady whose obsession with Brittany coaxed her out of her shell (and, were she instead an older man, might be cause for a restraining order or three). It's like an episode of MTV's True Life, which is fine and all, but we're here to see the stars of Glee, not their adorably uncynical fans; Tancharoen spends so much time with these real-life Gleeks instead of advancing character or story from the show through any sort of narrative that it soon becomes clear that this isn't a movie about Glee, exactly -- it's an ode to the cult of Glee.
Setting aside the implications of that glib, self-serving conceit, what makes this worse for fans of the show who were hoping to see some sort of narrative from their beloved motley crew of singing heroes is the fact that the star-driven material is relegated to the performances. No, you're not going to see Rachel and Finn stammer about their feelings or hear Tina rave about Mike Chang's abs. Musical numbers, aped from the show right down to choreography and costuming, clip along with businesslike expedience, so you'll have to bring your own context to the theater or else be lost wondering why Heather Morris is dressed just like Britney Spears singing (or apparently lip-synching, appropriately enough) to "I'm a Slave 4 U," or how the kid in the wheelchair is able to suddenly leap to his feet, magically able-bodied, to gyrate to the tunes of "The Safety Dance." Watchers of the show have seen this all before and understand why these things are happening. Nonfans, good luck following along. It's not all that terribly complicated, anyhow.
The only fresh character-based material here comes in the form of brief backstage interludes with the cast, but that portion has its own problems. When the cast is onstage re-creating the iconic musical numbers from the show, it's as if the New Directions somehow spent the summer on a world tour after blowing Nationals. But whenever Glee 3D steps off the stage and away from its polished arena pop act, the actors who so believably live in their characters' skins on television are asked to deliver half-hearted ad-libs in character backstage, seemingly without much warning -- while in the make-up chair, in a green room, on the way to the bathroom -- and despite what may indeed be their best efforts, not a single line lands funny.
One cast member who comes close to believably improvising in character is Michele as Rachel Berry, who conjures that neurotic-prima donna charm when prompted by an off-camera voice that sounds suspiciously like it belongs to show creator Ryan Murphy. But, as any Glee-watcher knows, not every Gleek can be a Rachel Berry (Michele's truly mesmerizing show-stopper "Don't Rain on My Parade," sung pitch-perfectly, underscores her undeniable -- and rare -- Broadway-trained talents). Sadly, Glee 3D mostly shatters the fantasy that these are a band of plucky kids joined in their enthusiasm for singing their vaguely personal renditions of familiar pop tunes on a stage instead of in a classroom; it's painfully clear these are performers -- talented and appreciative of their fans but still, performers, putting on an act for the umpteenth time, making the most of their pop cultural cachet by putting on an international tour that sells millions in tickets alone.
Meanwhile, Glee 3D completely leaves out one of the very best things about the show: Jane Lynch and her utterly watchable bile-spewing, glee club-hating cheerleader coach, Sue Sylvester. Though Sue and onscreen nemesis/Glee coach Will Shuester (Matthew Morrison) both appeared in the live shows via pre-recorded videos, neither is included in the film. Heck, they're hardly mentioned at all, which would be easier to ignore -- no awkward Shue dancing? no problem! -- if not for two things: One, another grown-up recurring guest character who shall remain nameless shows up to sing an entire number. (Hint: The name of the song echoes my feelings about her character.) And secondly, Fox is nevertheless using a Sue Sylvester viral campaign to promote the film. "These tone deaf, howler monkeys conned the plebian masses into downloading millions of songs; won Emmy Awards and Golden Globes; and have charted more singles than the Beatles," reads an open letter from Sue/21st Century Fox pushing the "Stop Believing" fake campaign agenda. "Roll over Beethoven, something stinks, and it ain't the cheese, it's the Glee Club. And now they're trying to shove a 3-D concert movie down our throats."
Sadly, Sue Sylvester couldn't be more right.
Between the feeble improvising, the disproportionate fan focus, and the choice of Tancharoen, who not only has a dance background but has experience stretching resources into a glossy, fan-loved new media product with his Mortal Kombat web series, Glee 3D feels cheap -- in spirit and execution, as if Fox figured out halfway through the tour that documenting the thing and packaging it for home video might make a ton of dough. In the least, it's poorly conceived. At worst, it may turn off those who'd already begun questioning the sincerity and quality of the series, which returns with a third season in September.
The nagging feeling that this entire Glee 3D concert movie business was just a cash-grab thrown together at the last minute on the penultimate stop on the last leg of Glee's North American tour is further advanced by the terrible use of 3-D in the film. Only a fraction of the 83-minute run time is presented in noticeable 3-D, most of which seems to come from a single camera fixed onstage that brings performers' faces trilling out of the screen a few times, ever so briefly. The potential to bring Harry Shum Jr.'s sweet dance moves into the third dimension is wasted, and unlike Jon M. Chu's dynamically-lensed Justin Bieber: Never Say Never concert doc, Glee 3D feels disappointingly flat.
Which brings us back to the slushies. The single instance of standout 3-D comes at the end, in the film's credits roll, as cupfuls of vibrant-colored slushie attack the screen in mesmerizing slow-motion. It suggests the sensation that someone is indeed throwing the saccharine stuff in your face, as most episodes of Glee tend to do with their messages of self-affirmation and acceptance. The difference is, after so much thin, narcissistic myth-building, and despite the moving contributions of its real-life Gleek subjects (including little YouTube sensation Kellen Sarmiento, the 4-year-old "Mini Warbler" who mimes Darren Criss's every move in adorable detail) this slushie in the face is the wrong kind of slushie in the face -- an insult that leaves behind a sticky-sweet residue, leaving you fuming at those responsible.