Power Ballad is director John Carney’s fifth feature film centered around music. While it’s not as raw and powerful as Once or as lovable as Sing Street, the familiar charms are present. Fans of Carney will scratch that itch with his signature themes of appreciating music and embracing the power of creativity. If the film itself isn’t enough to satisfy, those who purchase the Blu-ray™ will also be treated to a behind-the-scenes look at the making of the film and its music, along with a featurette focused on the movie’s main star, Paul Rudd.
Rick Power (Rudd) is the lead singer of a popular Irish wedding band who gave up his ambitions of becoming a major arena rock star long ago. When he meets fading boy-band icon Danny Wilson (Nick Jonas) at a gig, the two end up bonding over a late-night jam session. Months later, Rick is surprised to hear Danny singing one of his songs and seeks to reclaim the recognition he believes he deserves.
If you’ve read my reviews or listened to the Bloody Awesome Movie Podcast, then you know I’m a sucker for Paul Rudd. While not every movie he appears in screams high quality, his innate charm and naturalistic approach to his characters almost always click for me. Despite that, when he was announced as the lead of a Carney film, I was surprised, as I couldn’t recall any musicals in his extensive filmography. Yet, I should have had faith that Rudd’s talents extended to music as well, because he’s excellent in the role.
The opposite could be said for Nick Jonas, who has proven his musical abilities time and time again, but whose acting experience is far more limited. Sure, he has an innate charm, but most people probably don’t associate his celebrity with his dramatic talent. Yet, there are moments in this film where he gets to showcase some genuine emotion. His eyes reveal the internal conflict beneath the character’s carefully maintained persona. There is much more to Danny Wilson than his pop-star image would imply, which is part of why the best section of the film arrives a little too early.
From time to time, a movie climaxes too soon. Baby Driver (2017) is a prime example, as its opening sequence is so incredible that much of what follows feels like a slight letdown. Power Ballad is similar in that Rick’s meeting with Danny at the wedding and their subsequent jam session is the most enthralling part of the film. Once takes the opposite approach, building toward the recording session and Guy finally receiving affirmation of his talent while driving around the city listening to the demo. Here, Danny and Rick have so much chemistry and so much fun playing together—essentially massaging each other’s bruised egos—that the film can never quite return to the impact of that scene. Yet, that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.
That idea ties directly into one of the story’s biggest themes: chasing what you once had. Both characters feel as though they’ve lost something. That early sequence gives the audience the thing they’ve been missing. For the rest of the film, we keep hoping to return to the high of being in the castle, working on music without a care in the world. It’s the fantasy both men seek, but reality is never quite as pleasant.
Both Once and Sing Street became instant favorites of mine. I’ve watched them countless times and forced many students in my film classes to do the same. Begin Again was somewhat tarnished by the Hollywood sheen of it all, but it still contains some incredible insights into the power of music. Flora and Son has some major highs, though I’ve never felt especially compelled to revisit it. Power Ballad was initially one I liked but felt much more mixed about than I had hoped. Upon a second viewing, I’m starting to connect with it more. While I’d be surprised if it ever surpassed my love of Once or Sing Street, I can now see it as one of Carney’s stronger entries.
On a related note, the first time I saw the film was in June, and I noticed a nod to the opening sequence of Once. A man is busking, dressed very much like Glen Hansard’s character, when a guy snatches the guitar case holding his tips and runs away. At the time, the scene felt sweet, and I loved the self-reference to Carney’s earlier film—the filmmaker chasing something he once had through his newest story. Watching it again in August, just weeks after Glen Hansard died in a motorcycle accident, the moment became a gut punch. It now carries new meaning as a final cinematic nod to the man who helped launch Carney’s career.
After completing my second viewing, I dove into the special features. As a longtime student of the craft, I always enjoy behind-the-scenes insight into how the sausage gets made. That interest becomes exponentially stronger whenever Carney is involved. He is a filmmaker who sits at the intersection of so many of my interests and passions that I’ve studied his productions far more closely than most. With that caveat, these features were perfectly positioned to pique my interest, and they did not disappoint. The material about the production and the creation of the music adds useful context to the film, while the Rudd-focused featurette reinforces how essential his charisma and commitment are to making Rick work.
Ultimately, I am a big fan of Carney’s style. If I ever wrote a book about a filmmaker, he would probably be my target. There is plenty to enjoy in Power Ballad, especially its soundtrack, performances, and familiar belief in music as something capable of repairing damaged people. The Blu-ray™ does not radically transform the experience, but its additional material offers fans a worthwhile look behind the curtain and gives the film a little more room to resonate.
Power Ballad is now available digitally and arrives on Blu-ray™ and DVD on August 25.
Rating: 4/5
Berkreviews.com 