Of all the things that have unexpectedly brought a lump to my throat on a humdrum Thursday morning, Sister Act 2 is probably the most random.
It's a film that I haven’t thought about in years, yet there I was, glued to my laptop, watching Whoopi Goldberg and the now forty- and fiftysomething cast belting out Oh Happy Day and Joyful Joyful, original dance moves et al.
Like any millennial worth their salt, Sister Act 2 was a film I was obsessed with as a '90s kid. I re-watched it constantly with my sister, and the wave of nostalgia that hit last week was unexpectedly emotional.
It wasn’t just me, either: after re-sharing the clips on social media, lots of people got in touch. "I cried a bit watching that," one person admitted.
Another friend vowed to re-watch the 1993 film with her siblings that weekend, for old time’s sake.
At the risk of sounding positively middle-aged, watching the reunion - brought together by Goldberg and staged on US talk show The View to celebrate the film's 30th anniversary - brought me back to a simpler time.
A pirated copy of the film bought by my dad at Fairyhouse Market, watched so often by my sister and I that it became warped. Sitting on the sofa, eating King crisps and drinking Sunny D, no phones or social media to distract us, throwing ourselves into the dance moves and vowing to join a stage school at the earliest opportunity (spoiler alert: never happened.)
There was simply something about the story of the underdogs; the kids from the rough Catholic school who go on to form a gospel choir under the tutelage of a Las Vegas entertainer posing as a nun, that had mass appeal (pun intended). Throw in a few banging tunes and a troubled teenager, and what’s not to love?
Of course, it also introduced the world to a pre-Fugees Lauryn Hill, who sadly but unsurprisingly did not take part in the reunion (some waggish types on Twitter poked fun at her habit of arriving late to her own gigs to suggest that she was still on her way by the time the TV studio had cleared out.)
The funny thing is, they didn't need her: thirty years on, and aided and abetted by teens from a local Performing Arts school, the magic was still there.
The gathering of the now-grown-up actors, none of them particularly famous aside from Ryan Toby (aka Ahmal, who went on to write songs like Miami with Will Smith), was an example of when nostalgia is harnessed for all the right reasons. Nobody was there to sell anything - although the mention of the forthcoming third Sister Act film, reportedly in the works, was noted - it was simply a celebration of a film that was a pivotal part of many people’s childhood and teenage years.
Even Whoopi herself crumpled under the weight of reminiscence and broke down. "Worldwide, it doesn’t matter how old you are; you are the age of those kids when you see the movie," she said of the film’s enduring appeal. I must have watched the reunion clips thirty times over the last week and a half; it remains as joyful (joyful) as ever. So bring on Sister Act 3, currently in development - but until it hits screens, at least I have this little 5-minute endorphin booster to fall back on.
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