Finding the support for those who dare to dream| MARK HUGHES COBB

There's an adage, an axiom, an aphorism that says: The book is always better than the movie. To rebut, I'll drop this mic: "The Godfather."

It's also said of covers vs. original songs. My ace: Johnny Cash's "Hurt." No one prefers Trent Reznor's original. Including Reznor.

Even as a lover of lit — if my car's listing not from PA equipment, it's from 38 books tumbling off passenger and back seats — I'm not deluded enough to believe an idea can't be improved upon.

See this dude named William Shakespeare. He borrowed plots, characters and other skeletal systems from Latin, Greek, Italian and Scandinavian tales; he stole from history — they call those plays "histories" — and yet somehow we remember the Bard, because he added grace, depth, comedy, scale, and scope.

I could easier make an argument that musicals based on movies aren't strong as their sources. Start with "The Producers," which became incendiary despite the fact that Mel Brooks' 1967 flick, with Gene Wilder, Zero Mostel, Dick Shawn and Kenneth Mars, works better than the overwrought musical.

Perhaps the rarest category is that of musicals exceeding origins. I'd start with "The Full Monty," which I saw on Broadway in 2001 — in part because we couldn't score "Producers" tickets — which slaps harder than the hilarious and sweet-natured 1997 British film. You can't go wrong with either, but I'd lean toward the musical, should anyone dare to produce it here. (Spoiler: There's not much R-rated in it, but even hinted-at nudity gives some folks hot flashes.)

Then maybe "The Lion King." Possibly "Hairspray."

I saw one Sunday that may fit the bill.

One thing I'm certain about is the venue, lovely Red Mountain Theatre, begun in 2019 but thanks to the pandammit, opened just last spring; it still enjoys new-car smell. Find it near equally charming Regions Field (home of the minor-league Barons), Railroad Park, Good People Brewing and such. This expanse of south downtown Birmingham is what folks mean by rejuvenated.

It's the creative investment a city must make to cash in on experience economy. And hey, the RMT project only cost $25 million! Dig deep, Druid City. We can do this. Well maybe not $25 million this, but we've got to do things, for every arts facility in town, every studio, theater and concert hall could use revitalization, in the form of structural support.

We traveled for "Once," a RMT production of the 2011 musical, based on the 2007 surprise film hit. In Dublin, a busking songwriter (Guy) failing slowly at music, grows resigned to turning full-time vacuum cleaner repairman like his Da', with whom he lives. Girl, a Czech immigrant enraptured by his sound, becomes Guy's muse and backing pianist/harmony singer/lyricist, helping him write, record and recover.

In the twist — spoiler for a 15-year-old film — the two do NOT end up together, despite crystalline chemistry. Guy's aching melodies were written for an ex-lover who may still be his, should he find the guts to move to New York, where she's fled. Girl has a husband back home, and a daughter at the flat she shares with her mom and other immigrants.

The buildup's fittingly lyrical, leaving them always just out of reach; the ending's haunting, enigmatic. It's up in the air whether Guy and Girl will recognize their folly and unite, possibly after the demo they've cut becomes a hit.

I loved the movie, but didn't fully recall the plot, as it's largely a mood piece, a framework for the music of Glen Hansard — who had been in an Irish rock band, The Frames, with the film's director John Carney — and Markéta Irglová, the 19-year-old first-time actor, long-time music prodigy.

Hansard had one previous film credit, as guitarist Outspan Foster in giddily joyful 1991 film with music "The Commitments." Irglova's written and recorded with him — in storybook fashion, actual Guy and Girl fell in love — as The Swell Season, but that's to date her only acting credit, unless you count the 2017 documentary about the duo. Though they're no longer romantically linked — alas, perhaps the ending was apt — they still record and tour.

What I did recall, and what you'd take away from the musical, is the diamond at its heart: "Falling Slowly," their Oscar-winning, probably autobiographical ballad. For the live adaptation, it's smartly used twice, once for falling-in-love, then as a parting blessing: "I don't know you/but I want you/all the more for that" Guy sings. Adding soft climbing piano lines, Girl joins in with the kind of harmony that seems heavenly blessed: "Words fall through me/And always fool me/And I can't react."

I've sung this with brilliant Girl ... woman... musicians such as Abby Jones, Kate Gates and Shelby Burbach, and let me tell you, it is a bear, because Hansard's range soars. And I'm speaking as a guy who used to sing first tenor. In high school.

But what turns it from lovely to astonishing is how their voices meld on the chorus. Though not apparent from her forthright manner, Girl is, in her own way, suffering as deeply as Guy: "Take this sinking boat/and point it home/we've still got time./Raise your hopeful voice/You have a choice/You'll make it now."

I rode up to the Magic City with Tina Turley, executive director of Theatre Tuscaloosa, who had seen "Once" on Broadway, and basically insisted I go, along with her husband Ernie Turley, like me a guitarist-singer-songwriter who's worked at things he loves for decades, but makes his living from practical things.

Though Tina saw differences from Broadway, we all agreed it was a swell showing, not least for the splendid cast of multi-talents who could all sing, dance, play (guitars, fiddles, cellos, mandolins, ukuleles, accordions) and act, in the new venue, with its immaculate reception area. Seating was comfortable, well-spaced; sight lines and acoustics seemed top-rate.

For the film, Carney and cast shot guerrilla-style, with two handi-cams over three weeks, creating an almost-documentary look. The film earned a bit more than $23 million, not "Avengers" money, but as it was made for about $100,000, a palpable hit.

Hansard and Irglova played "Falling Slowly" at the 80th Academy Awards, then won, charming all with awkward glee. "What are we doin' here? This is mad," Hansard said. Host Jon Stewart deadpanned "Wow. That guy is SO arrogant." After the big laugh, he added: "Don't you feel just wonderful? That's just such a beautiful song."

Because Irglova had been cut off by the too-hasty orchestra, Stewart brought her back, which isn't done at the Oscars unless you're a class act like Stewart. He apologized to her, then said: "Enjoy your moment."

"This is such a big deal not only for us, but for all other independent musicians and artists that spend most of their time struggling," she said,, "and this, the fact that we're standing here tonight, the fact that we're able to hold this, is just to prove that no matter how far out your dreams are, it's possible. And ... fair play to those who dare to dream, and don't give up. ... this song was written from a perspective of hope, and hope, at the end of the day, connects us all, no matter how different we are."

Hope, music and art: They harmonized beautifully in the RMT, on a set designed to resemble a warm, shambling pub. Songs that struck hard on film deepened in three dimensions, breathing along with these underdogs, these almosts, these wanna-bes, in the public house where it happened.

Another connector, one we don't wish to talk about: money. Songs don't appear from thin air, at least not those you've heard produced and recorded. Souls pour into ephemera, these creatures of air, of dreams and hope, existences that wouldn't happen without gifts.

Think of that when you give, and donate to artists. They're giving their art, their part. You do yours. Sing with the chorus.

Reach Tusk Editor Mark Hughes Cobb at mark.cobb@tuscaloosanews.com, or call 205-722-0201.

This article originally appeared on The Tuscaloosa News: Finding the support for those who dare to dream| MARK HUGHES COBB