Let's be honest, me watching a classical music concert is a little bit of a journey into the unknown.
True, I did sing in St Matthew Passion At Coventry Cathedral when I was nine years old, but I can't say I've been near many orchestras since.
But everyfilmin2011 has been all about pushing back cultural boundaries so Mrs W and I rolled up to see Birmingham's finest export, Sir Simon Rattle, leading one of the best bands in the world in Singapore.
Oops, seems like my terminology has let me down already.
So here we were basking in a bit of Mahler while wearing our 3D plastic glasses. Seldom will a scene in a movie house be as incongruous this year.
But that didn't stop us enjoying the first half of the movie where we danced through the lines of the orchestra as if on a three-dimensional roller-coaster.
What did the 3D add? Actually, not a fat lot.
When it was used for Carmen and Lord of the Dance earlier this year, it exaggerated the magnificent movement. Here, it seemed a little superfluous, although at one point I thought my eye might be poked out with a violinist's bow.
Casting the new technology aside, I was gripped by the first hour, entranced by the musicians' perfect timing and magnificent togetherness. I could not work out who turned the pages of their music having only seen it done once.
The expressions of each individual musician flowed with the music and it was wonderful to see how they were wrapped by the music.
However, the second half was a let-down because a piece by Rachmaninov was accompanied by fewer shots of the players' and, instead, a glut of pointless images of Singapore.
In fact, it was like a particularly average tourist board video.
Director Michael Beyer missed a trick here.
If this movie was intended to introduce philistines like me and the missus to classical music it started well.
But we plebs like to get to know our characters, and I felt the second half would have been so much better if the camera had shot to some of the orchestra's key figures and introduced a little, unobtrusive, potted biog.
We wanted to know how old the clarinet player was (he looked young). I wanted to to know the nationality of the chief violinist, with whom Sir Simon seemed to have a particular rapport.
Indeed, footage of the orchestra in down-time, having a game of footy or going around the shops in their civvies would have also been enlightening.
Instead, it all felt a bit cold and an opportunity to hook in the plebs was lost.
Neither of us could deny the brilliance of the music but, as a film, the rating could not be more than 7/10.
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