Christmas, Chinese Food, A Movie: A Jewish Tradition

Every Christmas, while much of America is wrestling with wrapping paper, tangled lights, and relatives who insist the turkey is “a little dry,” My wife and I proudly uphold one of the oldest and most sacred Jewish holiday traditions: a movie theater and Chinese food.

This ritual is not optional. It is not flexible. It ranks right up there with bar and bat mitzvahs, breaking the glass at a wedding, and hiding the matzoh at Passover on the list of sacred Jewish traditions. In fact, I am convinced based on years of extensive, napkin-stained researchthat the entire Chinese restaurant economy on Long Island depends solely on Jewish moviegoers fleeing their living rooms on Christmas afternoon.

Last year’s cinematic choice was A Complete Unknown, the Bob Dylan musical biopic. This year, however, we stayed in the musical-biographical lane but swapped out Greenwich Village folk for midwest sequins, sincerity, and the unmistakable sound of Neil Diamond echoing through the multiplex.

The 2025 holiday selection was Song Sung Blue, a musical drama built around the real-life story of Mike and Claire Sardina, a married couple who found unexpected second acts performing as a Neil Diamond tribute duo called Lightning & Thunder. The film is written and directed by Craig Brewer, a filmmaker who knows his way around music-driven stories and understands that sometimes the most interesting journeys belong to people who didn’t start out famous or young.

Hugh Jackman and Kate Hudson step into the Sardinas’ shoes, backed by a supporting cast that includes Michael Imperioli, Fisher Stevens, Jim Belushi, and a few other familiar faces who pop up like pleasant surprises during a Christmas stocking raid. The movie draws inspiration from a 2008 documentary that first told the Sardinas’ story, and yes, Neil Diamond himself gave his blessing and his songbook to the project, just as he did with the original film.

So there we were: expectations cautiously optimistic, a theater humming with people who had nowhere else to be, and the promise of General Tso’s chicken waiting patiently at the end of the credits.

Which brings us to the movie itself.

At its core, Song Sung Blue doesn’t try to reinvent the jukebox-biopic wheel—and that’s not a complaint. The story is fairly straightforward, the cinematic equivalent of a well-loved Neil Diamond chorus you recognize by the second note and are happy to sing along with anyway.

The film introduces us to Mike and Claire Sardina, two Midwestern souls knocking around the lower rungs of the performance ladder, playing gigs where the audience enthusiasm is measured less in applause and more in whether anyone looks up from their drink. They cross paths during one of these underwhelming nights, bonding over a shared love of Neil Diamond and the stubborn belief that music can still change a life even if it hasn’t yet paid the electric bill.

What begins as a musical partnership gradually becomes a romance, then a marriage, then a blended family that feels lived-in rather than movie-perfect. Together, they become Lightning & Thunder, a Neil Diamond tribute act that slowly but steadily starts finding an audience.The success doesn’t come overnight, and that’s what makes it feel real. This is about persistence, not instant stardom.

Just when things are clicking, life does what life always does in movies like this and in real life by throwing a fastball to the ribs. A serious car accident leaves Claire facing a long recovery and a permanent physical loss that would have ended many careers. The film doesn’t rush past this chapter or sugarcoat it, but it also doesn’t wallow. Instead, it focuses on adaptation, resilience, and the kind of partnership where love means reworking the choreography, not abandoning the song.

Claire eventually returns to the stage with a prosthetic leg, and Lightning & Thunder keep going sometimes adjusting the dream, but never giving it up. The story carries through to moments of real validation, including sharing a stage with major artists, before eventually closing on loss, legacy, and the endurance of music beyond one life.

Yes, you’ve seen these themes before love, hardship, second acts, following the dream anyway but adding a soundtrack stuffed with Neil Diamond classics doesn’t hurt. When Hugh Jackman and Kate Hudson tear into songs like “Cherry, Cherry,” “Forever in Blue Jeans,” “Sweet Caroline,” and “Song Sung Blue,” the movie leans fully into its emotional honesty.

What really makes the film work, though, is the chemistry. Jackman and Hudson feel less like co-stars and more like people who’ve spent years sharing cheap motel rooms and arguing over setlists. Their rapport is genuine and quietly moving. Hudson, in particular, delivers a performance that must make her mother Goldie Hawn smile—and her father, musician Bill Hudson, nod approvingly at the speakers. Her singing is strong, grounded, and refreshingly unshowy.

Director Craig Brewer clearly treats the real-life couple with affection. The film plays as a love letter, but never a condescending one. There’s no winking at the audience, no mocking of big dreams from small stages. The story is warm, earnest, and unapologetically heartfelt even when it takes some emotional punches. It’s a two-hour emotional rollercoaster ride that can make you laugh, tear up, and quietly hum along, often in the same scene.

And then, as always happens to me after a movie like this, I fell down the post-film rabbit hole.

Knowing nothing about Lightning & Thunder going in, a few scenes sent me straight to fact-check mode, fueled by a post dinner MSG high and curiosity. Yes, they did share a stage with Pearl Jam but the real-life version was even more jaw-dropping. It didn’t happen in a half-full theater. It happened during a sold-out Summerfest show in Milwaukee in front of roughly 23,000 people, when Lightning & Thunder were brought out during Pearl Jam’s encore. Eddie Vedder joined them on “Forever in Blue Jeans,” just like in the film—but the scale was bigger, louder, and somehow more perfect.

There’s also a moment the movie doesn’t include: after Mike Sardina passed away, Vedder sent Claire a Gibson guitar Mike had always admired. Along with it came a handwritten note explaining that the guitar had once been played alongside Pete Townshend and Neil Young. That detail never makes the screen but it lingers with you afterward.

The real-life events involving their home were more than just footnotes—they were pivotal to the story’s heartbeat. In May 1999, a car careened into their front yard while Claire was gardening, leaving her with severe injuries and the amputation of part of her leg. About two years later, lightning literally struck twice when another car hit the house—thankfully no one was hurt—but the local news couldn’t resist the perfect chyron: “Lightning Strikes Twice.” The second incidents while not 100% accurate in the movie as far as a timeline are vehicles used to underscore the couple’s grit, making their determination and continued love for performing feel even more remarkable.

I checked a few other details along the way, but none of it took away from the film. If anything, knowing the real-life hurdles made the movie feel even more sincere, grounded, and inspiring.

Like the best Neil Diamond songs, Song Sung Blue may feel familiar, but it earns its emotions honestly. It’s about love, work, perseverance, and the idea that sometimes the dream doesn’t change—you just find a new way to sing it.

And yes, the General Tso’s chicken tasted even better afterward.