Bohemian Cinema By Jonathan Pacheco

“Once” (2007)

Directed by John Carney

Satisfaction:Pleased Tags: Musical, Indie, Digital

A heartbroken troubadour (Glen Hansard) and a woman with a busted vacuum (Marketa Irglova); these are the nameless characters that we follow in Once, a musical of sorts that has critics and indie filmgoers all in a tizzy. First and foremost, Once gives hope to every independent filmmaker who shelved an idea for a musical because, well, all musicals have to look like Chicago. Shot on a grainy digital camera and mostly handheld, the film feels down-to-earth and familiar, and adding no-name actors enhances the illusion of it all.

From the get go, Once establishes some rules; this film is meant to be a more realistic musical, one without background dancers and imaginary tunes floating around, waiting for someone to start singing. The first scene of the film has our lead playing a guitar on a street, yelling his songs, then having his guitar case (and the little change that was in it) stolen, forcing him to chase the perpetrator across the square. Right away, we’re told “This is not like your other musicals. There’s reality to this one.” I love that idea (it’s one I’ve imagined myself using many times).

There’s a brilliant scene in a music shop that has our guitarist teaching a song to the girl so that she can play along on a piano. He shows her the notes and tunes, and once she thinks she’s got it, he starts playing and singing. She joins in on the piano and even begins adding a second voice to the song. It’s all so natural but so magical. We see the music and chemistry unfolding right before our eyes, and I thought, “Yes. Yes. This is how it’s done.” The film was devising ways to create songs in this “real world musical” that could contain more than just a guitar. The rules were not broken, but that didn’t hinder the film—it just forced it to be more creative.

And then, they broke the rules. Twice. Now, I know, many will say that Once is only a musical in the loosest of terms; I’ve heard it said that its success comes from its simplicity and exertion of little effort. But I feel that once a film creates its world, it’s obligated to live and exist in that world. To me, Once created a realistic world with rules of how things worked, and halfway through, it decided it didn’t need to abide by those principles. Several times, the film cracked through its realism and featured songs with characters singing accompanied by background music and singers not seen on screen. Call me a stickler but it just didn’t seem right, and it totally took me out of the film.

The plot is extremely thin and is just an excuse for these two actors to have some good scenes together and make some music; fine by me, because I enjoyed the performances and the relationship. I will say that the film’s story finishes a little abruptly, but somehow I felt like its ending made me enjoy it even more than I already did.

Now, one thing that I can’t stand is when a movie asks me to care about someone I don’t know, or someone I’ve already been convinced to loathe, and Once does this—it does it almost twice. The guy in this film is hung up on an ex-girlfriend, one who cheated on him. He writes songs for her and sings them on the streets late at night when he thinks no one is listening. Then we see him meet this new girl. They’re obviously right for each other, they have tons of chemistry, and everything he says and does indicates that he’s falling for her.

Then we see the guitarist watching old home videos of him and his ex. I’m not sure if this was a conscious decision or not, but looking at his ex-girlfriend, I began to dislike her even more. The videos had her being affectionate with our protagonist, but her face and her demeanor told me she was cold and distant despite what the movies show me. Yet, as I’m thinking this, the guitarist is bellowing another passionate song about his lost love. The camera zooms in. We’re supposed to see his pain and his longing, but I don’t care! This guy is a total idiot for pining after a terrible girlfriend and I’m supposed to feel for him? I’m supposed to get caught up in the moment? No. Sorry, but no. I hate it when such a previously intelligent film resorts to a brain-dead cliché.

I mentioned that the film almost does this twice. I say “almost” because the second time is when our female lead reveals that she’s talked to her husband (who is not around), and he’s coming to visit, to spend more time, and to reconnect. Once again, this character is obviously made for our male lead, and she’s making a seemingly stupid decision. I’m okay with the idea that not everyone has to immediately end up together, but when the reason behind it is because they’re hung up on terrible spouses or mates, it irks me. But I let this one slide because first of all, we’re not subjected to another atrocious scene of her crooning while she reminisces about the “good times” with her ex, and second of all, because her move was more of a reaction to the guitarist’s recent choices. That makes sense to me.

I hope I’m not coming off as being too negative, because it is an enjoyable film. Not a great one, and that saddens me because the potential to be great was definitely there. The film’s first act borders on masterful; Once started out strong—really strong—but it lost a little steam as it went along. Nevertheless, some good music and good chemistry never hurt anyone, did it?