In School of Rock, Jack Black taught a classroom of 10-year-olds that rock ’n’ roll music is always about one thing: sticking it to the man. Young@Heart, a documentary about a chorus of performers in their 80s and 90s, shows that no one has more reason to stick it to the man than people who are most defiantly not going gently into that good night.



This is not your grandfather’s choir. Instead of singing songs from their youth like “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” or “Sentimental Journey,” these folks tap their orthopedic shoes, tug along an oxygen tank and slam into the music of their great-grandchildren’s generation. They’ve gone straight from 78s to iPods, literally without skipping a beat.



It sounds cute. Old people are settled, conservative. They are the man, aren’t they? There is something deliciously incongruous about the very old singing the songs of the very young.

But it is not cute. Their set list is not soft or easy. No Billy Joel, Neil Diamond or Beach Boys, no gentle harmonies or catchy melodies. Their music is raw and angry. They sing hard rock (Jimi Hendrix’s “Purple Haze”), punk rock (the Ramones’ “I Wanna Be Sedated”) and soul (“I Feel Good” by James Brown). This is real rock, written to be shocking, provocative, subversive.



It is stirring and deeply moving, finally transcendent. Music videos for songs like Sonic Youth’s “Schizophrenia” and Talking Heads’ “Road to Nowhere” have a surreal, dreamlike quality — good-humored but poignant as they add moments of fantasy and release. The man they are sticking it to represents loss of all kinds.



The film takes us from the first rehearsals to a sold-out performance in the chorus’s hometown of Northampton, Mass. Continually frazzled yet optimistic choir director Bob Cilman makes no concessions, artistically or generationally. This is not occupational therapy; it is art, and it is show business. He insists on a top-quality professional production.



Cilman presents the chorus with Allen Toussaint’s tongue-twistingly syncopated “Yes We Can Can,” which repeats the word “can” 71 times. Form equals content, and the medium becomes the message as they struggle to master the intricacies of the song.



Director Stephen Walker’s interviews occasionally seem intrusive, even condescending, but perhaps he, like Cilman, gets a little flustered at the inability to maintain any sense of control over the feisty singers. Early in the film, 92-year-old soloist Eileen Hall flirts with Walker — probably just to keep him off-base, at which she is entirely successful. Hall’s elegant British diction makes the opening lines of the Clash song “Should I Stay or Should I Go” sound as though she is asking to serve cream or sugar. But then the song turns into a goose-bump-inducing negotiation between life and death.



Two members who have been very ill, Fred Knittle and Bob Salvini, return for a duet, the Coldplay song “Fix You.” But Salvini dies before the show. Chorus members get the news as they sit on a bus about to leave for a performance at a local prison. No one knows better than they do that the show can and must go on.



They stand in the prison yard singing Bob Dylan’s “Forever Young,” voices quavering perhaps slightly more than usual as they remember their friend. The prisoners are transfixed.

Then, at the concert that concludes the film, “Fix You” is performed as a solo by Knittle, his oxygen tank beside him. He sings, “When you lose something you can’t replace/I will try to fix you/Lights will guide you home.” It is impossible not to feel that these performers understand those words better than the young men who wrote them.

Young@ Heart

★★★1/2

Stars: Bob Cilman

Director: Stephen Walker

Rated: PG for some mild language and thematic elements

Theaters: The Grand Cinema