Power Ballad

Every few years independent Irish filmmaker John Carney graces our screens with a new musically charged relationship story. Whether it’s the scrappily made yet unforgettable romance of "Once," the coming-of-age romance of “Sing Street," or his previous family drama “Flora and Son," there’s always something incredibly charming, yet deeply human about Carney’s work. 

His latest film Power Ballad focuses on a more unconventional relationship: one between two struggling musicians. Struggling is a matter of perspective, perhaps; the film’s lead, Paul Rudd, is an aspiring rockstar who has now settled into a career as a wedding singer, whereas Nick Jonas aptly plays a former boy band member trying to break out into a solo career. The metrics the two use to measure success throughout the film is perhaps the most interesting dynamic, and how Carney shifts those is the true core of the film. The film as a whole is utterly delightful, which is no surprise to fans of John Carney.

Neither Paul Rudd nor Nick Jonas is a conventional choice to lead a Carney film, or any indie dramedy really, but both offer pretty stellar work, arguably the best of either’s career. Early in the film, Rudd tells Jonas about how he settled down in Ireland after falling in love, and just through Rudd’s performance you can glean the slight regret he feels in that, what he wonders may have happened if he kept touring, and the shame he feels for wondering such. Rudd is so often cast as a charming, sometimes vacantly funny presence, and to add some tragedy on top of that usual nice guy persona is especially refreshing. Jonas is equally charming. You can sense the weight of the character’s previous fame, something that he likely pulls from his own experience, and he captures the media-trained way the character speaks to everyone with remarkable precision, particularly once the film's inciting incident pushes the story in a darker direction.

That darker turn is a rare and interesting choice from Carney, that being when Jonas steals a song Rudd plays for him and turns the song into a global hit. The song, “How to Write a Song Without You,” is a really nice earworm, although maybe not on par with other tracks from Carney films. But it does its job as a believably catchy pop hit that would be agreeable enough to top charts. The meaning of the seemingly surface-level song is actually given a surprising wrinkle of depth later in the film. This choice keeps the core dynamic and conflict, why both artists connect to the song for different reasons, believable. 

Perhaps the film could’ve offered more original songs to flesh out the previous work of the Jonas character, but that clearly isn’t much of what the film is focusing on. The character in general could’ve used a few extra scenes; we see his conflict in how to handle succeeding off the stolen song, but it feels we’re only given just enough to service the plot and are kept quite distant from him. Rudd is obviously the lead and heart of the film, but for how essential Jonas is to the film to work, perhaps an extra scene or two to get more in his head would’ve benefited in making him more likable or even more unlikable, but it feels Carney rarely scratches below the surface level.

The downfall of Rudd’s character as he tries to convince people he wrote the song is far more compelling and takes up much more screentime. Even though the audience knows he is telling the truth and was truly wronged, the mistakes he begins to make in order to prove his case make us understand why those may not believe him. This is truly career-best work for Rudd; it’s a far more layered character than he has played in recent memory, and to see him lean into being unlikable in scenes was a really welcome change of pace. However, it is still Paul Rudd, and it’s still a John Carney film, so the likable qualities tend to win out by the end. Rudd is obviously quite skilled in winning over hearts and is just as good at that here.

In a way, the trio of Rudd, Jonas and Carney are almost too warmhearted for a story like this. One can easily imagine watching it and how the same premise from more anxiety-driven storytellers like the Safdie Brothers or even Tim Robinson would feel and how that might be more elevated. With how pleasing his sensibilities tend to me, there’s some depth to this story and character that feels missed out on. No matter how fun and heartwarming “Power Ballad” is by the end, there is that feeling of lost potential that perhaps lingers a little too long. Obviously this isn’t a review calling for a different director, as Carney is very capable and talented, but perhaps him stepping a bit more outside of his comfort zone and usual sensibilities would’ve done this film some favors. 

In the end the main word to describe “Power Ballad” is one that applies to most Carney projects: delightful. A word that’s probably been used in this review more than once but is very applicable to a film that serves mainly to charm, warm you up and leave a catchy tune in your head on your way out. After a few days it hasn’t done much more than that, but for what it’s trying to accomplish, it’s another really lovely entry in a really lovely filmmaker's catalog.

7/10