Lost in The Multiplex

Coppola takes this simple domestic drama and turns it into something that's almost a musical but not quite. Filmed on vast neon-lit sets, the film has the glitzy, artificial look of a Broadway show, and there's a score oozing torch songs courtesy of Tom Waits in his pre-Rain Dogs smooth jazz phase. But the principles don't actually sing. Most of the vocal work is handled by Waits himself, either solo or duetting with Crystal Gayle, and very lovely it is too. However, this puts the actors in an awkward position, because while Waits croons, they're forced into the role of mimes, gazing out of windows, sighing and generally looking fretful.

On occasion, this distance between music and story breaks down, and the conventions of Broadway shows come into play – there's a big dance number on the Strip, with Fran and Ray to the fore, and a fantastical interlude when Hank conducts a fanfare of car-horns. It's in these moments that One from the Heart is most alive. Watching them makes you wish that Coppola had opted to make an all-singing, all-dancing Hollywood musical in the MGM tradition rather than this strange, arty cross-breed.

As it is, with hardly any opportunity to take part in the razzle-dazzle, Hank and Fran become, to different degrees, bystanders in their own film. Never the most charismatic of actors, Frederick Forrest plays Hank as such a slow-witted boor, you're only too eager for Fran to see the back of him. Fran is a much more winning character, but even Teri Garr – one of the most accomplished comediennes of her era – struggles to impose herself.

And yet, despite it's all too evident flaws, One from the Heart is impossible to dislike. It has charm, high spirits, a complete absence of cynicism and all kinds of incidental pleasures. Anyone who relishes the high-gloss, neon-kissed look of Eighties cinema will be drawn to the sheer beauty of this film. Fans of Tom Waits's earlier work will love the soundtrack. Admirers of Garr will be pleased to see her in a leading part when she was all too often relegated to supporting roles. There's even Harry Dean Stanton with a perm. Just don't expect The Godfather of musicals.