IN 1968, four young Aboriginal women formed the vocal group the Sapphires and went to entertain US troops in Vietnam. Tony Briggs’s mother was one of them.

Briggs’ screenplay for Wayne Blair’s film, co-written with Keith Thompson, may garnish verity for the sake of enhancing their story’s filmability, but its provenance is undeniable. Its depiction of white-fella disdain in a small Victorian town is uncompromising without being overblown. What is important is how well the story persuades us of its essential truth.

The sequences showing the girls’ development as people and as a singing group move quickly and effectively. At a local pre-selection audition for a chance at the Vietnam gig, Gail (Deborah Mailman), Julie (Jessica Mauboy) and Cyn (Miranda Tapsell) perform before Dave (Chris O’Dowd). Dave, one of life’s losers, perceives C&W talent. What the US Army wants is soul. Dave wants a better voice for lead singer, who happens to be the girls’ cousin Kay (Shari Sebbens) a stolen generation child raised as white.

The screenplay doesn’t waste time getting before a selection panel in Melbourne thence to Saigon. The girls are a success. But not a military necessity. They are performing in Nha Trang when an attack begins. Dave gets shot. Fear not. We know he’s a survivor.

Little niggly bits stopping short of resolution or making assumptions lacking validation keep distracting from the film’s effectiveness. Its depiction of Vietnam and American military behaviour is a bit flaky without totally overwhelming the film’s claims on our goodwill toward its warmth of heart and musical strength. Liking it is not hard. But with a more rigorous screenplay and attention to period detail, it could have done better.

At all cinemas