Dreadful.

Christopher (Jon Sherrin) is haunted by strange dreams since the death of his wife of 22 years. When he meets his daughter Destiny's (Erin Leigh Price) fiance Ben (Craig Pinkston), he realises instantly that Ben is his reincarnated lover, back from the dead after both were killed in the Holocaust. Though Ben is initially resistant to the idea, the pair soon end up in bed together.

Though the premise of The Singing Forest contains some interesting possibilities, the execution is abysmal. Technical difficulties thwart the entirety with most every scene incorrectly lit or sound so poor that entire sections of central dialogue are barely audible. Dennis Harvey, reviewing the film for Variety described it best:

Pic's problems leave no department untouched. Script is arbitrary in detail and incident. Dialogue is by turns New Age-y and banally improvised-sounding, the ending simply confusing. A key argument is filmed silent, following scene in which protags' words are semi-drowned out by crashing ocean waves; scenes of people watching television are mysteriously accompanied by no small-screen image or sound. One can frequently hear wind or fingers thumping against the sound recordist's mike; camera tends to wobble (was no tripod available?); several scenes are soundtracked by library orchestral excerpts that seem absurdly overlush in this context. [source]

The tantalising theme of reincarnation and the transmigration of souls is left completely on the shelf, despite it being the basis of the plotline. Most unforgivably, the murder and brutality dished out to homosexuals by the Nazis is exploited for no other purpose than to romanticise the dull lives of our two bland and insipid lead characters.

The film takes its title from the tormented reflections of some gay Holocaust survivors, who christened a forest outside a concentration camp that howled of a night time with the growns of agony from gay prisoners impaled on posts, "the singing forest". What on earth the plight of those poor men has to do with the efforts of two dreary closet poofs to scratch their way to an alcoholic romance in present day California is your guess as good as mine: The Singing Forest is in no position to answer its own question.

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