After the backwash of films like Ray (2004) and Walk the Line (2005), the last two plus years of musical biopics have (for the most part) been quantity over quality.
In that time, there is director John Carney, who has specialized in dramas revolving around music. Nearly two decades since 2007’s Once, he has helmed Begin Again (2014), Sing Street (2016), and Flora and Son (2023). Now comes Power Ballad, proving he knows the idea of how to do quality over quantity (Flora and Son is probably his most forgettable, but that does not make it a bad flick).
Even if his films have big-name stars (such as Mark Ruffalo and Keira Knightley in Begin Again), it never feels like Carney is relying too much on them. Here, he has possibly his biggest star to date in Paul Rudd, playing a could-have-been singer/songwriter named Rick Power. Having settled in with his Irish wife Rachel (Marcella Plunket) and raising their daughter Aja (Beth Fallon), he gets by as the lead singer of a Wedding Band (“The Bride and the Groove”).
One wedding gig has the groom’s old friend, Danny Wilson (Joe Jonas), a former member of a recently defunct boy band. Despite being in a dry spell of late, he still knows how to perform, doing so with Rick’s band. After a night of bonding and sharing songs, Danny leaves him a rare guitar and heads back to America. Not long after, he starts playing one of Rick’s songs, and his girlfriend Marcia (Havana Rose Liu) is moved to tears. He releases it as a single, and it becomes a big hit…but does not mention Rick’s contributions.
As familiar as I am with Paul Rudd, I admit to never knowing he was good at singing (aside from his legendary acapella contributions in Anchorman). Of course, he is not as seasoned as Nick Jonas, but he is seasoned at seeming like a seasoned performer (we are finally at the stage in life when Paul Rudd is aging).
Aside from the catchy tunes (the main song is a rather inviting earworm), there is also some authentic human dialogue. Take, for example, when Rick asks his daughter for a couple of minutes of her time, and she says she is busy. When asked what, she simply responds
“My life”.
Then there is Rick, trying to relate to today’s music, with the following question to his bandmates:
“Are we stoned, or are we just old?”
Parents, as is the case with most of Carney’s films, the R rating here is mainly for more than enough swearing. There is no sexual content (aside from girls in bikinis) and some very mild violence. High School age and above should be fine.
As chance would have it, I am writing this review hours before attending a wedding (shout out to Josh and Cass!). They are not using a live band, but a DJ. Looking back, I have no recollection of being at a wedding with a live band (aside from rapping one song at my brother Connor’s wedding: you are welcome.) This could be one of the main reasons why I always feel weird not hearing certain songs the way they were originally meant to be played (it is rare for me to like anyone singing “Over the Rainbow” who is not named Judy Garland). One of the best things the film taps into is the psyche of music and how we relate to certain songs in our lives.
It could be that Carney knows this is not on the same level as Once (to be fair, what is?), which is why he gives a gentle call back of sorts to that film’s opening scene. This one ends similarly (along with Begin Again), with a character walking toward their next stage of life, realizing it is not about the fame or money, but the music we make.
Overall:
Nothing else to say 