There are a handful of filmmakers esteemed enough in my opinion to warrant seeking out their latest films without any other details beyond that they’ve made them. Martin Scorsese. Greta Gerwig. Barry Jenkins. I don’t care what the movie is; just the fact that they’ve made it is enough of a reason for me to plunk down in a cinema and soak it up. Also on that list is John Carney, the Irish filmmaker who’s carved out a niche for himself in the modern movie musical genre. Beginning with 2006’s Once that became a phenomenon in its own right, Carney has written and directed (and crafted the music for) a few of our era’s most endearing and sincere music movies. From Begin Again, the 2012 romcom starring Keira Knightly and Mark Ruffalo, to his (in my opinion) crowning achievement in 2016’s Sing Street, to 2023’s heartwarming mother-son dramedy Flora and Son, Carney’s work is always centered on the power of music in our lives, the relationships the define us, and Ireland.
In Power Ballad, starring Paul Rudd and Nick Jonas, Carney (who co-wrote the script with Peter McDonald, who also has a supporting role in the film) takes us to Dublin for the story of an American ex-pat, Rick Power (Rudd), who found himself on the Emerald Isle on tour with his rock band when he fell in love with an Irish girl and never looked back. Now the lead singer with a wedding band (delightfully dubbed “The Bride and Groove”), Rick and his mates make a living covering pop and rock classics that are sure to get wedding guests on their feet and dancing along. Because this is Europe and such things happen, the band is booked to a wedding at a historic castle, an elegant affair where the groom’s childhood friend, former boy band member Danny Wilson, is in attendance. He’s cajoled into performing with the band, and after the party winds down, Rick and Danny find themselves in Danny’s suite at the castle, smoking weed, drinking Irish whiskey and swapping songwriting ideas all night long.
The two really hit it off creatively, to the point that Rick shares with Danny a riff to a love song he’s never quite been able to finish, a ballad aptly titled “How to Write a Love Song (Without You).” Danny’s under pressure from his management (a fun cameo from Carney regular Jack Reynor, who sadly doesn’t get to be Irish here) to produce something new and fantastic since splitting from his band, and when he’s back in LA and digging for creative inspiration, the melody of “How to Write a Song” comes back to him. Soon, it’s a massive hit, he’s skyrocketed into a comeback nobody saw coming and heading back out on a world tour. The trouble begins when Rick hears the song at the mall one day and nearly loses everything trying to prove that it’s actually his; he has nothing on record, no work files or saved snippets of his work writing it, so he’s up against a wall when it comes to trying to prove to his band, his family and himself what we already know.
There are plenty of moments in Power Ballad where Carney asks us to just…go with it, to just not ask many questions, not investigate the plot too deeply. Danny returns to a woman he loves in L.A., for example, and she’s key to his decision to lean into finishing and releasing Rick’s ballad; but about a half hour later, she’s written off in a montage with zero explanation beyond a few headlines proclaiming the fictional celebs’ break-up. These sorts of narrative blips are noticeable but not unforgivable, as ultimately the film is more concerned with vibes and intentions anyways, as all of Carney’s pictures are. Rick is a man who’s long been at sea with is music, both as a career and a creative process, and Danny’s success with his song is what finally breaks him, finally forces him to confront all he gave up to get married and start a family and all he still struggles with in crafting new songs. Rudd navigates this sort of mid-life creative crisis with his usual (and very watchable) heart and humor; his counterpart in the younger of the Jonas Brothers is a worthy scene partner and brings a pleasantly surprising amount of thoughtfulness to his role as a man equally conflicted if with access to different resources and opportunities.
At the heart of Power Ballad is, of course, the ballad itself, a saccharine sweet tune about being so in love that life itself seems impossible without your other half there to complete you. The song tugs at every available heartstring and certainly may not be everyone’s cup of tea; personally—and this could just be because I’m two weeks engaged to the love of my life watching a film about weddings—I found the song lovely at best, tolerable at worst. It certainly doesn’t derail the film as some have expressed; in fact, every one of Carney’s films takes the risk of introducing new music as if it’s already a hit and, for the most part, he’s usually spot on.
As the 98-minute film clips along towards its feel-good ending (welcome to the world of John Carney), it could be said that the stakes start to feel borderline silly or that a certain reveal about the song at the center of the film is a bit too on the nose. Honestly, I can’t argue with either of those criticisms and probably even share them; but none of that is enough to turn me off from this otherwise charming, funny and almost nostalgic dramedy, the sort we don’t often see in theaters these days. Rick is a grown-up dealing with grown-up struggles; he’s imperfect and he knows it, but he also knows to his core what matters in his life and where his choices have lead him, and it’s exactly where he wants to be. If Carney’s script glosses over a few things or otherwise polishes the rough edges of reality, well, that’s cinema, baby. Sign me up.
Power Ballad is now in theaters.
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