Power Ballad film review: Playing the hits
Director John Carney hits the right notes with Power Ballad, a feelgood Paul Rudd-led, Dublin-set tale of plagiarism and unrealised musical ambition, says Emma Simmonds
A specialist in musical morality stories that aren’t afraid to wear sentimentality on their sleeve, Irish filmmaker John Carney is the man behind micro-budget-indie-hit Once, the adorable and underrated Flora And Son and Sing Street, as well as anthology show Modern Love. His work is unmistakable, boasting an open-hearted optimism that’s almost unfashionable in pessimistic times, but that can be tricky to resist.
Carney has worked with up-and-comers such as Eve Hewson and Lucy Boynton but this is the first time one of his films has been fronted by a pair of firmly established stars, giving it the potential to reach a wider audience. Co-written with Peter McDonald (who also appears), Power Ballad brings together US comedy royalty and Ant-Man himself, Paul Rudd, with pop singer Nick Jonas for a story about musical plagiarism and thwarted dreams.
Mercifully avoiding an Irish accent considering how badly his countrymen have mangled them in the past, Rudd plays Rick Power, an American living in suburban Dublin. We hear how Rick fell for an Irishwoman more than a decade ago while touring with his terribly monikered, modestly successful band Octagon (a record deal is mentioned), and how he ended up staying in Ireland and raising a child, forgoing his dreams of stardom. Carney’s wife and regular collaborator Marcella Plunkett plays Rick’s adoring spouse Rachel, with Beth Fallon his loving but typically teenage daughter Aja.
Rick now fronts pun-tastic wedding band The Bride & Groove alongside loyal mucker Sandy (McDonald) and petulant drummer/manager Binzer (Rory Keenan), the latter loving to remind Rick of their lowly purpose (‘we’re not rock stars Rick, we’re human jukeboxes’). When the band are invited to play a posh wedding, ex-boyband member Danny Wilson (Jonas) is there as a guest of the groom. Danny joins Rick in a duet on stage and the pair click, jamming through the night and helping each other with their music. Rick plays Danny an unfinished love song, ‘How To Write A Song (Without You)’, but when he hears it on the radio six months later, he realises that Danny has stolen it.
Jonas is very much in support here and gives an effective turn, hugely helped by his credibility as a musical performer. Danny’s desire to go beyond his manufactured stardom and prove himself as a serious artist (and the ruthless way he goes about getting there) are judged by Carney to be the less compelling arc of this story. But the character is enjoyably flanked by Irish-American actor Jack Reynor (who gets to make an inappropriate joke about leprechauns in the guise of a crass Yank), sinking his teeth into the part of Danny’s casually cutthroat manager Mac.
By sidelining Danny’s story, Carney shows himself unenamoured with the showbiz world of LA, and more aligned with the unflashy folk of his home city, characters whose lives have turned out to be harder and a lot more humdrum than they imagined, as he reminds us that the quality of our relationships with those around us is enough. The seed for this story was planted around eight years ago when Carney saw a middle-aged rocker doing the school run with his daughter and the director started to wonder about the man’s life. Further inspiration came from the 2023 Ed Sheeran copyright case, with the singer accused of lifting elements from Marvin Gaye’s ‘Let’s Get It On’ before ultimately being cleared.
Given his everyman persona in far glossier projects, Rudd is that rare big star who can plausibly play an ordinary joe and he delivers a typically affable turn that leans on his comic instincts while giving at least some indication of his dramatic skill (and shows off his decent, if unspectacular, singing voice). Incidentally, the role was originally written with Colin Farrell in mind, which would have given the film a very different flavour.
The song in question (written by Carney and Gary Clark of 80s Dundee band Danny Wilson… can you join the dots?) boasts the deceptively simple, distinctly timeless quality of a smash hit, and stands up to repeated plays. If Carney’s direction can feel a touch bland, Power Ballad coasts on its musical confidence, feelgood charm, comedy and sincerity. As it roots for the little guy and ramps up the love-conquers-all spirit, this film strikes many of the right notes.
Power Ballad is in cinemas from Friday 29 May.