"Young@Heart" sounds like one of those quirky, heartwarming comedies the Brits do so well.

A bunch of folks in their 70s and 80s band together to form a rock group and before you know it they're playing sold-out concerts in the U.S. and Europe.

The movie is quirky and heartwarming but it's not fiction; it's a documentary about real people.

Documentarian Stephen Walker heard the 24-member Young@Heart Chorus in London and felt compelled to make a movie about the group. He brought his camera crew to Northampton, Mass. -- home to the chorus -- and filmed rehearsals over a seven-week period for an upcoming concert and a European tour.

What he came away with is an uplifting, yet sometimes sad, story about a bunch of senior citizens who prove you're never too old to rock 'n' roll.

Most chorus members prefer classical music, opera and show tunes to the Ramones and Sonic Youth and the Clash. But they happily defer to Bob Cilman, the director who made them stars.

Cilman could be the son of any of the rockers and he's been with the group for more than 25 years. The project started as therapy and still fulfills that purpose. Originally, the chorus did vaudeville songs until the night one of them stepped out and performed Manfred Mann's "Do Wa Diddy." The audience response was thunderous and a rock group was born.

Walker gives us glimpses into the lives of group members and he charts the rigors of rehearsals and the pitfalls of old age. Before the concert, two of the members die and their deaths inspire some of the movie's more poignant musical moments.

One member sings Prince's "Nothing Compares 2 U," made famous by Sinead O'Connor, as a tribute to a fallen chorus member. Fred Knittle, oxygen tubes in his nose, sings a solo instead of the duet he was supposed to sing with his late comrade. It's Coldplay's "Fix You" and the audience is transfixed.

On the day the chorus learns about the death of one of its members, it chooses to go on with a concert at a local jail. Before Bob Dylan's "Forever Young" comes to a close, the inmates -- young enough to be the grandchildren of the singers -- are dabbing at their eyes.

But the movie is not all poignancy and sentimentality. It's often funny and sometimes suspenseful. Will Stan Goldman get the lyrics to James Brown's "I've Got You (I Feel Good)" right before the big night? Will the chorus master the 71 cans in Allen Toussaint's "Yes We Can Can?" Will Sonic Youth's "Schizophrenia" ever come together?

When 92-year-old Eileen Hall marches through The Clash anthem "Should I Stay or Should I Go," you feel optimistic about the outcome.

Walker intersperses the documentary approach with some music videos he's made of the group's numbers. At first, it seems gimmicky but then you warm to the fact that the members play to the camera as avidly as they do to live audiences. They've become show people and it keeps their motors running.

The enthusiastic and charismatic Cilman doesn't baby his elders. He's out to create music and the concert finale has audience members stamping for encores. The enthusiasm is not patronizing. It's a tribute to people who work hard to get their chops right and refuse to go gently into that good night. Instead, they've chosen to rock until they drop.