Sean McNamara's family-friendly film, which was released to drive-ins in the wake of coronavirus-induced theater closures, uses rock and roll to bridge eras and generations. The plot revolves around Oak Scoggins (real-life guitar prodigy Tommy Ragen), a 10-year-old musician, and Gina Jackson (Janel Parrish, Pretty Little Liars), the former manager of a rock band. At first, there doesn't appear to be any connection between the two, but all will be revealed by the end. In a prologue set 10 years in the past, Bob Dylan's grandson, singer-songwriter and model Levi Dylan, plays Gina's brother, Vaughn, the be-wigged front man of Army of Love, a grunge-rock band that's been plying their trade on the Ocean Beach club circuit. When she books them a slot opening for Arcade Fire at the Hollywood Bowl, they believe they've hit the big time. Alas, they miss their shot as a drunk driver crashes into their van just after Gina delivers the news, and Vaughn doesn't make it. The film then flashes forward to the present. Oak's best friend, Emma (Gianna Harris), loans him Vaughn's guitar, which her father, club manager DB (Dwayne Biggs), inherited after his passing. Oak's widowed mother, Valerie (Alexa PenaVega), could never afford anything so expensive. A Navy veteran who spends much of her time in bed, Valerie suffers from a variety of physical and mental ailments. Vaughn's former band mate, Pedro (Carlos PenaVega), now a server at DB's club, tells Gina, and she decides to check out the kid. At first, she's mad, but because Oak has been practicing to Army of Love's YouTube videos, his playing sounds so familiar that Gina, a lost soul who lives in the past, believe he's the reincarnation of her brother, and convinces the band to reunite with the 10-year-old as their new front man. Ragen is an amiable young performer, but his singing is adequate at best, making it hard to believe these fully grown adults would go for it, but there would be no movie if they didn't. Just as the reincarnated band is starting to make a name for themselves all over again, real life intrudes, and they have to call things to a halt. Mighty Oak veers in tone from peppy to gloomy as characters experience further losses before McNamara (Soul Surfer) finds a way to end things on a happy note. Along the way, Matt Allen's script touches on gambling, post-traumatic stress disorder, and prescription drug abuse. Though the director keeps things humming along, and the music is pleasantly innocuous, things don't click the way they should, possibly because the film often seems too lightweight for adults and too heavy for kids. Optional. (K. Fennessy)