After her father dies, Katie (Lucy Hale) is left to live with her cruel stepmother (Missi Pyle), who is the dean of a performing arts academy, shallow stepsister (Megan Park), who is a wannabe pop star, and bratty little stepbrother (Matthew Lintz), who defecates all over the house and blames it on the family’s nonexistent cat. Katie has written and recorded a demo CD, but she can’t convince anyone to give it a listen.

That all changes when Luke (Freddie Stroma), the son of a famous music executive, enrolls at the school. Luke has already produced one album, and Katie longs to work with him, but her stepmother forces her to allow her stepsister to pass the demo off as her own. Will Katie be able to convince Luke of the truth before it’s too late? And if so, will their blossoming romance fully bloom? Do those questions even need to be asked?    

CRITIQUE

A Cinderella Story: Once Upon a Song will test your tolerance for clichés. This direct-to-video sequel to the direct-to-video sequel to the theatrical original doesn’t have an original bone in its body. Will that bother the young girls at whom the movie is so squarely aimed? Maybe not. Nevertheless, I hope there’s a chance at least a few of those young girls will realize they’ve been duped into wasting their time and their parents’ money on a lazy, paint-by-numbers rehash/recycling of the first two movies, which themselves were rehashed/recycled (I’m assuming, although I think it’s a pretty safe assumption).

It’s bad enough the people at Disney keep pulling this crap, but now other studios are adopting the same tactic. Here’s what I mean: This series has become a product line, and Warner doesn’t want to futz with that line too much. Remember New Coke? So they keep churning out the same thing, making only minor tweaks to each successive entry, just enough to make it seem like it’s new to those who aren’t going to scrutinize it. (This entry was written and directed by the same people responsible for the first sequel. Isn’t double-selling illegal?)

But regardless of how many details get massaged, it is the same. The leads are interchangeable, the wicked stepmothers are interchangeable, the wicked siblings are interchangeable, the cute boys are interchangeable, etc. It’s the worst sort of plug-and-play filmmaking, both crassly calculated and lazy.

Someone was obviously paying attention to the sales of Disney flick soundtracks, as the settings of the sequels have been switched to locales that make it easier to inject music into the proceedings. This movie can’t go ten minutes without someone breaking into song, regardless of whether or not it’s an appropriate spot for a song. Unfortunately, but not unexpectedly, the songs here are the sort of pabulum that the tween audience is likely to go nuts for, manufactured and programmed, simplistic and sunny.

As usual, the characters are shown making them up on the fly, telepathically working out the arrangements, their “live” performances studio-slick, the vocals processed like so much Velveeta. Also as usual, these songs are actually the work of as many as six songwriters and three or four producers. It’s arguable that the movie is actually just a long advertisement for the soundtrack; it opens with a song, closes with a song, and awkwardly comes to a halt in order to showcase the other songs. Everything else seems secondary.

For all its predictability (four minutes in and the movie’s path is obvious), for all its clichés (Luke and the stepsister go on a date; taking the Cyrano role, Katie sits at a nearby table and texts her stepsister what to say), for all its lackadaisical storytelling, for all its questionable performances, for all its wonky structure, for all its dumb, inconsistent plotting (is this school a high school or college? Do these kids ever go to class?

Why do the first two students Stroma meets instantly recognize him but no one else does? How does the little brother set up a surveillance system the CIA would envy and somehow rig all of the house’s locks to work electronically? Why is the little brother mean to Hale for the first seventy minutes but nice to her for the last twenty? Where did Hale get the money to make a professional demo? Why does Pyle sound like a hillbilly but her kids sound like they’re from Nebraska?), the movie’s biggest problem is its message.

The big musical number Hale performs at the end accompanies a song whose lyrics celebrate self-empowerment and determination, but the plot makes it so that Little Miss Grrrl Power is unable to do anything until The Cute Boy comes along and helps her. I suppose we should count ourselves lucky she didn’t go around saying, “Math is hard.”

THE VIDEO

Considering this a direct-to-video cheapie, the 1.78:1 anamorphic transfer doesn’t look too bad. The movie itself looks like it was shot for television, with visuals that are slightly flat and lighting schemes that indicate not a whole lot of thought went into them. Colors generally look fine, although for some strange reason much of the movie’s opening is bathed in a baked-orange glow that obliterates every other hue and looks very unnatural. Some darker shots also look unnatural, the low lighting lending the image that sort of plastic, smeared look you often get from darker digital photography. Banding is also a problem at times; in one early shot of Pyle’s home the roof looks like three distinct bands of multi-shaded grays. Quite naturally, exteriors that benefit from healthy doses of sunlight come off best.

THE AUDIO

The sole audio option is a Dolby Digital 5.1 track. Not surprisingly, the sound design heavily favors the front channels, only spreading to the rears for some mild music expansion. The low end is middling. Dialogue sounds okay most of the time, although it occasionally drops in volume or becomes slightly disconnected. English SDH subtitles are available.

THE EXTRAS

Spotlighting Lucy Hale: Our New Cinderella (7 minutes) allows Hale to talk about her character and everyone else a chance to talk about what an amazing, committed, talented person Hale is.

Meet Prince Charming (8 minutes) focuses on what a great--and dreamy--guy Stroma is.

Make ‘em Move (6 minutes) takes a look at the movie’s dance sequences and musical numbers.

Flippin’ on Set (6 minutes) is a promo piece for Flip Video cameras masquerading as a behind-the-scenes featurette.

Closing things out is a music video for Hale’s “Bless Myself.”

FINAL THOUGHTS