Once Upon a Rhyme

The pared-down Irish "musical," Once, has been universally praised by critics since its stateside debut in May. Though not widely advertised (or widely released, for that matter), a little research will unearth an abundance of enthusiastic reviews of the film. I mean, Jesus, the rotten tomatoes rating (www.rottentomatoes.com) is practically unparalleled. Even otherwise vitriolic critics have resorted to using adjectives like "perfect" to describe the film. I won't go quite that far. The one-and-a-half-hour, music-packed movie is certainly "charming" (a frequently used, but right-on descriptor) and a refreshing break from the over-written, over-developed, over-the-top blockbusters; but I will put a couple of caveats on my endorsement of the film.

Technically speaking, Once is an artful work of subtlety that recalls the realist movements of years past, with its long take/deep focus, entirely hand-held camera work, minimal use of post-production sound, location shooting, natural lighting and salt-of-the-earth characters. It could almost be an Italian neo-realist flick, or perhaps more fittingly, a Dogme '95 film (that is, if you don't consider it a genre film). While I do generally like the long takes, they can get a bit excessive at times, especially during many of the performance scenes. Director John Carney does use some beautiful cutting during the crowd sequences, where the passersby wipe the screen (a technique I always love) and the takes are much shorter. But regardless, the film is marked by a lot of continuous shots, which for the attention-deficit-afflicted viewer, may make the film seem slow.

Narratively, the film sticks to its minimalist tendencies. Part "musical," part romance, the film follows an aspiring singer-songwriter (Glen Hansard of Irish band, The Frames) and the relationship he forges with a female pianist he meets on the streets of Ireland. The dialogue throughout the film is sparse and natural. The desaturated colors and minor-key melodies paint a Dublin worn by the pervading sadness of the brokenhearted, a haven for the wandering, hopeful lost. Many shots are expertly staged, exposing poignant moments of the characters' quotidian lives. For instance, a crowd gathering around the protagonist becomes a sad statement on his inability to make money playing his original songs. A beautiful, moonlit shot of his father working through the night on menial tasks denudes their slightly (only slightly) bleak reality. Generally, the film imparts a sense of hope and tenderness infused with the smallest bit of melancholy, which I find more realistic than the maudlin sentiments of many other films today.

But despite its best attempts, Once is mostly about the music. Anyone who claims otherwise is, in some sense, fooling themselves. While the plot is not a mere artifice, it does take a backseat to the guitar-and-piano-accompanied crooning that predominates. Going into the film, I was legitimately apprehensive about its "musical" nature, especially since the songs were said to be in the vein of Coldplay (not my music of choice). Fortunately, to my surprise, I was taken in by the simple, haunting appeal of the music. The harmonies between Glen Hansard's gruff vocals and Markéta Irglová's ethereal style are enchanting. The soundtrack is playing even as I write. Of course, the music will not be appreciated by all. I will say that those who do not like the music will more than likely not like the movie. It is the cornerstone of the piece. But even if the music doesn't sound like your cup of tea, give it a chance. It's well worth it.

*Going off topic for a moment, I did want to briefly discuss the movie-going experience. I went to see this film with my husband at the recently constructed Landmark Theatres located in the annexed section of Westside Pavilion and let me say how fantastic it was. All of you indie-film-loving, Los Angeles residents need to get up on this theatre. Boasting a fantastic wine bar, the newest technology, stadium seating, ushers, plush leather seats, and a broad range of concessions (wasabi snacks and vegan cookies, anyone?), it's without question the place to be. My one suggestion is to be prepared. Show times sell out quickly (I found out the hard way) and the sooner you buy tickets, the sooner you get to pick out your assigned seats. So ditch the Arclight and its exorbitant ticket prices. You'll thank me for it.