So do whatever you need to do to get the movie—rent it from a video store, buy it, borrow it, bootleg it, download it illegally, or steal it from your neighbor’s mailbox. Just get your hands on a copy of that movie.
What can you expect when you watch this movie? Lots of nose hair and ear hair (and even old ladies with a little chin stubble). Wrinkles and age spots. Canes and wheelchairs and oxygen tanks. Ill-fitting clothes from the 80s—or maybe Goodwill—purchased when their bodies were a completely different shape than they are now. Genuine old people (it’s a documentary, after all), warts and squirrelly eyebrows and all.
But what you don’t expect is that a guy named Bob has organized them into a senior citizen chorus that sings Jimi Hendrix and James Brown (“I feel g-o-o-d . . . like I knew that I would . . . ). Don’t expect polished, professional singing. They can’t remember the words, they can’t keep the beat, sometimes they end up in the hospital instead of at chorus practice.
It’s one of those movies that you should see if you ever plan to get old someday. It’s a good lesson in how to live well (or as the BeeGees and the Young @ Heart chorus would say, “Ah, ah, ah, ah, stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive!).