"Young@Heart": Singers' talent and passion have no age limit

Fred Knittle has the kind of warm, burnished voice you could listen to forever, and his rendition of "(Ghost) Riders in the Sky" hits the low notes with mellow perfection, sliding agreeably down to the basement of his register. "I can still get down there," he says. "It all depends on how loose my shorts are."

Knittle is 81, and he's the heart of Stephen Walker's documentary "Young@Heart," about a senior citizens' chorus in Northampton, Mass. Suffering from congestive heart failure and breathing problems, Knittle uses an oxygen tube, but his voice rings out strong. Late in the film, as he sings Coldplay's "Fix You" (with its wistful lyric, "When you lose something you can't replace ... "), it's a moment as moving as anything I've seen on film in a while. The song, performed in concert, was intended to be a duet — but, as can happen in a senior citizens' chorus, the cycle of life intervened.

Walker's film, which could easily have slipped into aren't-old-people-cute territory (and overcomes a slightly patronizing tone early on), ultimately becomes an eloquent statement about the twilight of a well-lived life and about a group of people going there with grace and bravado. It's a profile of the Young@Heart chorus, a group of two dozen singers (average age: 80) who perform classic rock and R&B songs under the direction of their leader, Bob Cilman. The chorus tours widely, singing at venues ranging from vast concert halls to prisons. At the prison concert shown in the film, the chorus' version of "Forever Young" has the inmates weeping.

And yet "Young@Heart" sparkles with humor, in the naughty twist of an elderly woman's mouth as she sings (well, bellows) "Should I Stay or Should I Go?," or in the goofy music videos made by the chorus of songs like "Stayin' Alive" and "I Wanna Be Sedated," or the simple shots of a row of sensibly shod feet tapping to the beat. (You haven't seen "Stayin' Alive" until you've seen it led by Knittle in a bowling alley, looking jaunty in — what else? — a white suit, accessorized with an oxygen tank.) Walker weaves rehearsal and performance footage with the videos and with simple chats with many of the chorus members, who explain what the group means to them.

It's an emotional tapestry, sure to both delight audiences and move them to tears. Watch Knittle, carefully rehearsing his unexpected solo as he sits alone at home, or listen to one of the chorus' senior members, 92-year-old Eileen Hall, speaking cheerily of what she knows to be inevitable. Soon, she says, "I shall be sitting on a rainbow, watching you." May the view be a lovely one.

Moira Macdonald: 206-464-2725 or mmacdonald@seattletimes.com