A few years ago on podcast The Allusionist, Bea and Leah Koch, owners of America’s first romance-only bookstore The Ripped Bodice, explained how, historically, romance sales spike in times of economic, social and political upheaval. It makes sense, really. When life is tough, people want optimism, escapism.
So it was one night late last year. I was trawling streaming services for a romance novel of sorts, something to counter my 2020 malaise. I needed something light, something fun, something that would reach out of my laptop and gently stroke my hair while I wept.
And then, by the grace of Netflix, I found it – the perfect antidote. It wasn’t a romance; it was a six-part docu-series called Voices of Fire. “Hundreds of singers. Three auditions. One choir,” said the blurb. “Who’ll bring the range, and the change, to carry gospel to new heights?”
Sold.
Voices of Fire is the story of one pastor’s dream of creating the world’s greatest gospel choir, and his nephew’s capacity to make that happen. The pastor is Bishop Ezekiel Williams of Faith World Ministries, in Hampton Roads, Virginia. His nephew is singer, rapper, songwriter, producer, multi-Grammy and Oscar winner Pharrell Lanscilo Williams.
From thousands of applicants, 300 singers were invited to Hampton Roads to try out for 75 choir places. With the goal of true diversity, people of all ages, ethnicities and abilities were encouraged to apply. “Music transcends racial divides and cultural boundaries,” says Bishop Williams, who says he wants to build the kind of choir Jesus himself would assemble.
Like a children’s book they came – old ones, young ones, big ones, small ones, black ones, white ones, you get the picture. They have mountains of talent, buckets of soul and, perhaps most importantly, pathos. For, without meaning to belittle the substantial struggles of many of the hopefuls, even the most virtuous docu-series needs a few sob stories.
There’s a teenage girl born with only one ear, a fully mobile former substance abuser who was told he would never walk again, a woman with such bad social anxiety her mum is her only friend, and a dude who was in a boy band and then wasn’t. I found it hard to muster an abundance of sympathy for the last one, but I was rooting for them all nonetheless.
Though the pipes and pitfalls of the auditionees are the focal point of the series, it is the judges/mentors that kept me watching. Joining Bishop Williams and (briefly) Pharrell are three titans of Virginian gospel: musical director Larry George, vocal coach Peggy Britt and choirmaster Patrick Riddick.
If for no other reason, watch this show for Britt and Riddick, aka the Queen and Prince of Gospel. Miss Peggy is an exuberant mother hen with the voice of an angel, the heart of a saint and a wig collection to rival Moira Rose. And Prince Patrick is a paradox of intensity and ham, as much performer as he is conductor, dressed always like the lovechild of Harry Styles and Tupac Shakur.
But I loved all five judges. I loved watching them lose their minds as singer after singer slayed their auditions. I loved the bishop’s joy as his life’s ambition materialised. I loved Pharrell’s incredulousness during the final performance. And I loved the kindness, generosity and encouragement they seemed to show all singers.
Pharrell only makes a handful of appearances but the mutual love and respect he shares with his uncle is clear. The bishop is grateful to his nephew for making his vision a reality, and Pharrell is humbled in doing so. It’s so wholesome I could cry. I did cry.
As a Jewish atheist, I’m about as far from Faith World Ministries, Virginia, as one can physically and spiritually be. And yes, the series is heavy on the hallelujahs and the praise-the-Lords, and potentially too churchy for some. But the incredible singers and the delightful judges overrode any personal discomfort I may have felt with a lesser show’s evangelism.
Voices of Fire may not be the best show out there but, if you’re feeling down, or, like me, you sometimes sing the Sister Act 2 soundtrack to yourself as you go about your day, give it a go.
