BY EMIL TIEDEMANN
Every now and then a movie comes along and offers us something other than overbudgeted CGI, epic storylines, sequel-friendly finales, and/or A-list stars that could light up any marquee. Two years ago, in '07, Once was that movie.John Carney (pictured bottom left) wrote and directed this charming little film, which falls under no clear category, though its abundance of original songs could easily render it a musical, of sorts. It's hard to say, really, as there are no debonair dance numbers or over-zealous acting, but most of Once is eclipsed under an umbrella of humble ballads.
Once opens with a cynical busker singing Van Morrison's "And the Healing Has Begun" on Dublin's busy Grafton Street. The part-time musician remains nameless throughout the film (credited simply as "Guy"), and is played by real-life musician Glen Hansard, who's only other brush with acting was a cameo in 1991's The Commitments.
As Guy plays his Morrison cover, a heroin addict stumbles by, suggestively contemplating stealing the singer's street tips that have piled up in his guitar case. "Don't fucking rob me," warns Guy, before chasing the junkie down when he actually does, but wishing him luck in the end.
By nightfall Guy puts away the covers and introduces us to his self-penned melodies, luring a young Czech woman with his rendition of "Say It to Me Now." The woman sells flowers in the same Irish streets, and also is unnamed (credited as "Girl"), portrayed by first-time actress Marketa Irglova, who is also a real-life musician and who co-wrote most of the film's music with Hansard.
Moved by Guy's impassioned ballad of an unfaithful lover, Girl insists he play more of his own music during the day. When she discovers that he works at the local Hoover Centre to pay the bills, she excitedly convinces Guy to take a look at her broken vacuum cleaner, an endeavour that leads to Guy's own discovery of her musical talents.
Girl plays the piano, taught by her father, but has limited access to the instrument, practicing on a music shop display model for no more than an hour each afternoon. She brings Guy with her to the shop the next day, vacuum in tow, and gives him a taste of her own endowment. Taken aback, Guy persuades his new friend to play with him a song he's been working on.As if in sync with each other, the pair piece together (with Hansard on guitar) "Falling Slowly" during the impromptu collaboration, sparking up their benevolent relationship, as well as one of the most satisfying music moments in cinema history. The unassuming "Falling Slowly" captured the film's essence, in addition to to a well-deserved Academy Award as Best Original Song.
Kindled by a shared passion for music, Guy and Girl find themselves intrigued by one another. During a bus ride home, he reluctantly answers her probing questions in the form of crooning, belting out "Broken-Hearted Hoover-Fixer Sucker Guy" to explain away his lost lust. She invites him up for dinner when they arrive at her unpretentious apartment complex, and he eagerly accepts. She lives modestly with her young daughter Ivanka (Kate Haugh), and a mother who barely speaks English (Danuse Ktrestova). Neighbours from down the hall routinely come in and out of the suite, making themselves at home in the one complex with a "tele."
Guy asks the aspiring pianist to put lyrics to a song he had written, and it's barely minutes after he leaves for home that Girl takes up the task, retreating to her bedroom with a pen, some sheets of paper, and the walkman she received as a gift from him.
When her cassette player's batteries die, Girl "borrows" some loose change from Ivanka's piggy bank and sets off to the nearest store in her robe and slippers. On the way back home she plays Guy's music and sings her fresh lyrics to "If You Want Me" in the dark streets of this Dublin neighbourhood. The director is unapologetic with his rawness of Once, especially in this scene, as local children acknowledge the camera, and its shadow is caught with its own lense. It takes the full length of the poignant ode for Girl to reach the front steps of her apartment, and I happily invested.
Hansard's character decides to return to London and forgive the woman he can't seem to forget, but not before recording some of his own material to circulate to record labels, any of which would be asinine not to bite.
In one of the movie's more humorous scenes, the optimistic musicians meet with a loan officer (Sean Miller) at a bank, asking to borrow $2000 for the sessions. Girl assertively slaps a tape recorder on the desk and plays one of Guy's songs, sure of its ability to inspire even this shirt-&-tie. The banker admits he, too, is a songwriter aficionado, as the scene breaks to him stroking an acoustic guitar and playing them one of his own ditties.
After he gathers a band of street players (Alaistair Foley, Gerard Hendrick, Hugh Walsh) and discovers that Girl has an estranged husband "back home," Guy heads to a recording studio, where a for-rent producer (Geoff Minogue) writes them off from the get-go. But it's only moments into "track one, take one" that the producer realizes he's underestimated the unlikely group of untapped virtuosos, as they synchronize on "When Your Mind's Made Up" and then "Fallen from the Sky."The studio soon transforms into a musical domicile, and a family sanctuary where near-strangers get to know each other. Away from the chaos, Guy and Girl breifly retreat to a dark room baring nothing but a grand piano and a reading lamp. He convinces her to play him one of her unfinished songs, "The Hill," about the frustration she's incurred with her impassive husband. She cuts the song short when she breaks into tears, sharing the couple's most amiable moment.
Their relationship, however deeply affected in such a short time, goes no further than that, finished off with a kiss on the cheek and a broken promise. Not exactly a love story, Once touches base with the concept, only to unravel into something else, as she commits to spending his last night in town with him, but recants, and avoids him instead.
"Falling Slowly" kicks in for the second time in the film's 86-minute run, as Guy buses it to the airport, unable to stop smiling over his goodbye gift to the Czech girl who seemed to have fixed what was broken. We then bid farewell to the sincerity of these gloriously blunt characters, and their intimate anthems, as a departing camera captures the joyous Girl playing that goodbye gift in front of her window, her husband standing at her back. You don't want the credits to roll, but you're kind of glad they do, as to avoid disturbing a story that is better left alone.
Once remained just as charming at the end as it did when Hansard sang Morrison songs for petty change at the very start, eluding any of that Hollywood glitter that can easily corrode a fearless script. Director Carney--who used to play bass in Hansard's band The Frames--took a big risk when he cast two experienced musicians as unexperienced actors to play semi-experienced musicians. In my case at least, I wasn't able to tell.
Made for about $160,000 U.S. (75% of which was funded by The Irish Film Board), Once felt almost like a documentary at times, relying on hand-held cameras, gritty lighting, and unfamiliar faces. The filmmakers also used extended lenses during crowd scenes, so that passersby weren't even aware they were being filmed.
But it was the music that stood out the most...tender, solemn, and "fucking brilliant," but music that will most likely remain unknown to most. It's an unusual occasion when music and movies come together so impeccably, but Carney's hit the mark here, as a film that only comes along Once every ten years or so...wait, when did Dazed & Confused come out?!4.5/5 stars
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