Movie Review: Once (2007)

If anyone asked me what kind of music I preferred to listen to, I'd say, "acoustic." As far as genres go, "acoustic" is more of a technical style, rather than a musical style. I like it because it strips away all the musical crutches available to an artist -- post-production editing, mistake-covering electrical instrumentation, overwhelming rhythms -- and exposes the singer, instrumentalists and the song itself for what they are. It's pretty easy to tell when a song or singer is not that good once those elements are taken away. By the same token, it is very easy to tell when a song or singer is most excellent when unplugged.

Such is the case with Once, an independent Irish musical film shot and produced on what essentially was an independent budget. The actors had one appearance's worth of experience between them all. The aforementioned budgetary contraints also meant no fancy sets, no fancy costumes, no Hollywood pretties and next to no lighting. If ever there was an 'acoustic' film, this was it.

In this way, Once is either a love-it, or hate-it kind of movie. Some people watch movies to be blown away by boobs and bombs, or other shallow gimmicks designed to hook you in. Once is a film that requires a patient audience that can see beneath the surface and truly experience a story for what it is.

At its core, Once is like a Chekovian short story: a tale of broken people going through the motions of their lives until a chance encounter sets them on a new path for a brief period of time. The two leads are unnamed, down-and-out musicians who cross paths one day in the shopping district of Dublin, Ireland, where the Guy is busking on his worn-out guitar, trying to make some extra cash for a trip to London to win back the girl he writes songs about. The Girl is a poor Czech immigrant working a number of menial jobs to support her family. A broken vacuum cleaner brings them together and out of their shells. Fixing the vacuum cleaner at the father of the Guy's vacuum cleaner repair shop allows them to begin helping each other fix themselves.

The one element of this film with polish is, naturally, the music. Performed and written primarily by the two leads, Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, the songs themselves are reflective of the film's understated mise-en-scene. They are raw, plaintive, simple, and surprisingly good -- illustrative of the film as a whole. The guitar that Hansard plays also acts as a metaphor for the brokenness of the characters as well as the film's. Everyone and everything is sort of just hanging in there and hoping for the best.

Put together, Once is far better than the sum of its humble parts. The interweaving of the story and music is occasionally forced, but never beleaguering. The acting is not A-grade, but all the more honest for that. The occasionally improvised dialogue is often broken by the mannerisms and filler words of everyday conversation -- a big no-no in big-budget mainstream films, but perfect here. The story teases and hints but refuses to go the Hollywood route. The camera work borders on homevideo quality, imparting a sense of intimacy that steady filming and adequate lighting cannot achieve. Like a good friend, Once is a gem of a movie whose flaws only serve to make it all the more endearing.

*** 1/2 / 5

Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova performing the Academy Award winning song "Falling Slowly" on The Late Show with David Letterman.