Heartland: Long December

An achingly honest look at the creator life as a never-was singer faces a watershed moment and tries to reconcile what it means to chase your dream... or give up on it.

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Maybe it’s the realist in me, but I never forget about the folks who don’t make it.

For every kid who gets to the NBA, there are 10,000 others who strived and sweated and never even got close. You see that guy riding the bench on a small-market NBA team who rarely gets into games? At his high school, they whisper his name with hushed reverence.

It’s possibly even worse in the arts. The democratization of tools and distribution channels make it easier for somebody to put their work up on YouTube or Spotify (or Substack), but it’s harder than ever to actually make a living at it. The system is rigged so most of the eyeballs and dollars flow to the biggest acts.

“Long December” is an achingly honest portrait of a never-was. Gabe Lovell (Stephen Williams) is a talented singer/songwriter who’s been at it awhile. As we see from the opening musical number, the guy’s got skills and serious pipes. He croons away solo under a spotlight, pouring every bit of his soul into “Silent Night,” a haunting minor-key rendition.

Tears pull at our eyes.

Then his daydream slips, and harsh reality reasserts itself. He’s been playing in the middle of a mostly empty mall around Thanksgiving. Other than a couple of smirking kids, no one’s even paying attention. After this sad set, the mall manager admonishes him to stop playing his original interpretations and stick to the holiday chestnuts.

That’s life, man. Being good and true and hardworking is no guarantee of success. If your music doesn’t tickle the algorithm on Spotify so the bots recommend it to enough people, you wind up like Gabe.

He tends bar to earn some bucks, occasionally filling in when the live music act doesn’t show. Everybody likes him and roots for him. But, he’s stuck.

Gabe also has a baby boy and a wife, Jamie (a luminous Emily Althaus), who hustles orders on Etsy while he spends long nights at the bar or playing gigs. She loves the guy and calls herself his biggest fan. But he can see in her eyes the time is coming when their crummy apartment and rattletrap Jeep aren’t going to cut it.

A decade ago or so, it seemed like Gabe was on the verge. He’d been a member of the band for his cousin, Darren Knight (John Mark McMillan), a mid-level touring act and local boy made good. Gabe’s early work got decent numbers on YouTube. But they’ve dwindled from 5-figure views to four to three.

Which gets you mall gigs.

Through a series of YouTube videos, we see Gabe trying out some new songs and contemplating whether it’s time to hang up the dream. Of course, he winds up writing a song about that, too. The true mark of an artist is that they can’t not create art.

At Thanksgiving a family member offers to bring him into his company laying tile. It’s steady hours and better money than the bar. But it also represents a decision point: admitting that he’s somebody who just plays music on the side. Singing goes from being the thing to a thing.

Then, a lucky break happens. Darren’s winding up his latest tour and needs a keyboardist. He even lets Gabe sing one of his own songs on stage in front of a big crowd. It’s magical moment. Darren also introduces him to Alan (Charley Koontz), a manager in Nashville who’ll let Gabe record his new songs at cost.

We’ve seen these movies before, like “A Star Is Born.” Somebody notices, Gabe gets his big chance, and he finally breaks through into stardom. Alan, a slick operator type we’re familiar with, could be the key to unlock that dream.

Cold water time. Alan, who’s not too bad after all and thinks Gabe has legit talent, lays it out for him. Most people don’t make it. Even the good ones. Is Gabe able to accept this is probably his fate, too?

Writer/director Thomas Torrey brings an incredibly weighty and sage approach to this material. Anybody can make a movie about a kid who comes from nothing and suddenly becomes a big star. It’s a popular theme because it resonates with a lot of people’s own personal dreams and aspirations.

The harder path is crafting a story full of pain and self-degradation, and then balancing that against Gabe’s burning desire to make a living from his music. Is the journey really worth the toll?

Of course, “Long December” wouldn’t work without a lot of terrific musical numbers, courtesy of Kevin Dailey. Stephen Williams has a wonderful, mercurial voice, the kind that can grind through whiskey rock or soar through falsetto, wistful ballads. Possibly my favorite is a lullaby he sings with Althaus lending some backing harmony.

I remember years ago coming across this video of a couple of guys playing in a pizza joint doing a cover of Toto’s “Africa.” People walking by outside while those inside munch their slices. And those guys are just. Absolutely. Killing it. That video now has 17 million views and while those guys aren’t stars, they’re still making music. Could Gabe become like them, at least?

“Long December” is a terrific, emotionally enveloping movie filled with joy, sadness — and wisdom. It’s about coming to grips and reconciling what you wanted with what can be. At one point Gabe runs into a bar owner who shares that he, too, was once on the music biz turnstile. He turned that into a life — maybe not the one his younger self wanted, but a good life.

“It doesn’t have to be binary. Sometimes a broken dream can become a new dream.”

Here’s to the Gabes of the world with their broken dreams. And the filmmakers. And everyone else.