The Singers

By: Kelly Kearney

Premiering at this year’s SXSW, the short film The Singers is a 17-minute experience that immerses viewers in a late-night, impromptu sing-off at a local bar. What starts as a casual challenge among bar patrons quickly becomes something deeper—an intimate, unfiltered glimpse into the transformative power of music.

Inspired by a 19th-century short story by Ivan Turgenev, the film seamlessly blends documentary and musical elements with a heavy dose of improvisation. Featuring a cast of online singing talents from Mike Yung, Chris Mither, Will Harrington, Judah Kelly and Matthew Corcoran to a a handful of eccentric characters plucked from the far reaches of the internet, The Singers is a love letter to artistry, spontaneity. camaraderie and the raw emotion that music can evoke.

Bar Flies, Bragging, and Betting

From the very first frame, the setting is unmistakable—a dimly lit bar, its walls lined with faded beer advertisements and patrons permanently affixed to their stools who, like the bar itself, has seen better days. The collection of weary souls nursing their drinks, seem to be facing their own personal last calls in life. Conversations bounce from the absurd to the mundane—discussions of glucose levels, the lifespan of snails and the minor tragedies of everyday existence fill the room.

Then, someone throws down a challenge: who in this bar has the best voice? What begins as a lighthearted wager—a $100 prize and a free beer for the winner—escalates into something unexpected. The patrons exchange playful insults, a good-natured roasting session filling the air before a single note is sung. That is when the room shifts from idle chatter to eager anticipation. It’s when the quietest man (Judah Kelly) in the room excuses himself to the restroom. There, at the urinal, the melodies leak out of him like a murmur that grows into a belly-belting ballad leaving the other men at the bar ready to compete. They don’t just step up to the challenge—each one of them commands it. Their voices, different in tone and skill, shake the very bones of the bar. As each new contestant joins in, the men’s eyes widen, chests puff with pride and their once-scattered attentions converge on this moment of pure, unfiltered magic. One by one the performances ignite a spark that sets off a chain reaction with each voice adding a new layer of emotion, humor, and soul.

What sets The Singers apart is its authenticity. These aren’t polished, rehearsed performances—they are raw, unrehearsed expressions of life itself. Each singer brings something deeply personal to their performance, but it’s the casual, unscripted banter between songs that truly brings the room to life. Laughter intermingles with heartfelt moments and amidst the joking and barroom bravado there’s a deep-seated respect for the power of music and each other.

Music Soothes the Soul

As the night unfolds, the performances become more impassioned, each one revealing something about the singer. No one’s performance stands out among the rest. Tenor Matt Corcoran belts out an operatic masterpiece, while Smithers and Harrington lean into the blues, delivering gut-wrenching performances that seem to pull the weight of their entire lives in each note.

But it’s the bartender played by Mike Yung who delivers the most unforgettable moment of the night. Reaching back to The Everly Brothers, he sings with such raw emotion that the entire bar falls silent. It’s not just a performance—it’s a confession, a catharsis, an aching vulnerability laid bare for all to see. There is power in finding a space where you can express yourself without fear, without pretense. In this smoky, oxygen-starved dive, each singer—whether bold or reluctant—finds that space. And even if the moment is fleeting, disappearing as quickly as the last note fades, it is real. It is enough for this night, regardless of who takes home the cash prize.

Direction: A Fly-on-the-Wall Approach to Spontaneity

The magic of The Singers wouldn’t be possible without its intuitive, fly-on-the-wall direction from Sam Davis. Rather than relying on traditional narrative storytelling, the film thrives on its documentary-style approach. The camera lingers in corners, subtly capturing the unguarded expressions of patrons as they react to each performance. It moves through the room catching snippets of conversations, as if it were just another barfly.

By allowing scenes to unfold naturally, Davis crafts an experience that feels as authentic as it is cinematic. There is no forced tension or artificial drama—just real people, real voices and a raw emotional arc that emerges organically. The decision to use improvisation adds an additional layer of unpredictability – the very essence of a night out where anything can happen.

From the dimly lit atmosphere to the sound design, the direction captures every nuance – the scrape of a chair against the floor to the crescendo of voices swelling in harmony. Each performance felt immediate and immersive, as if the audience itself was sitting in the crowded room waiting for the next unexpected voice to capture their attention.

In many ways, The Singers is as much about listening as it is about singing. The pacing allows for moments of quiet observation, for reactions to land, and emotions to settle. The choice to let scenes breathe gives weight to the unscripted flow of conversations and by the time the final song fades, the camera captures something that so often eludes filmmakers: the intangible magic of human connection.

Kick Back and Enjoy the Show

A film about music’s ability to break barriers and bind people together, The Singers is a testament to the human spirit. It captures the way a single note, sung in the right moment, can cut through the noise of life and connect us in ways words alone never could. It reminds us that no matter who we are or where we come from, music has the power to bring us home—even if that home is a dank little bar in the middle of nowhere. If you love music—the kind that shakes you to your very core— then grab a seat and pour yourself a drink: The Singers is a watch you cannot afford to miss.