Power Ballad

Bluesky

Rick used to be in a band called Octagon, but on tour in Ireland found a girl, settled down. He still plays that funky music as frontman of a wedding band, 'human jukebox' outfit The Bride and Groove. In mid-life, crisis imminent, it's not a little red corvette but a Ford Transit that's seen better days. He's got a daughter in high school, pushing a not so sweet 16. He and his bandmates still haven't found what they're looking for, at least without reading glasses. You'd probably walk on by. Except he's Paul Rudd.

Is this ruthlessly triangulated as a feel-good movie, with Rudd for some, Nick Jonas of the Jonas Brothers for others, and a pretty accurate depiction of coming to terms with middle age and parenthood for a group who are too unironically fond of hair metal to be 6music dads? Yes. Does that matter when it's as well executed? No. This is satisfaction embodied.

John Carney writes, directs, did the same for much-loved Once and Sing Street and like any number of indie musicians before him took the building blocks of previous works and built them into a radio-friendly unit shifter. While Rick Power's story is about as subtle as its title it's still got good vibrations.

At a wedding, one of several that depict modern couples with receptions important enough to the plot that they're probably safe from censors in the vein of Tipper Gore, Rick meets Danny. Danny's a former member of a boy band, and it's this that starts us towards one of Power Ballad's central themes, that of authenticity. Whatever had been on the cards, this is the joker. A Stevie Wonder duet isn't enough to bring about superstition, but even without varifocals the writing's on the wall. It's different glasses that help them see each other, product placed Heineken, what is likely to be a whiskey though I couldn't make out much beyond the shape of the bottle.

Rick's been working on a song for some time, you see, and while jamming it becomes something between the two of them. While Danny says 'goodbye stranger' and offers a generous parting gift, unbeknownst to Rick he might as well have been runnin' with the devil. To say more would be to spoil the film like a Victorian child.

I've got far fewer than 99 problems with the film, but I do have some. The presence of ADR is evident, but to be honest that means we can enjoy the soundtrack and the cast's versions of dozens of tunes. The eagle-eared will catch The Power Of Love, but I'll leave it to your detective instinct to guess which one. There's a microphone that might have read 'how to disappear completely' but can then claim to be back for good. All the small things that might bother me wouldn't spell out trouble for others. The authenticity angle is an interesting one for something with the star power of Rudd and Nick Jonas attached, but it's to Carney's credit that it works.

Among the effects credits is a reference to 'volume', the omnidirectional screen-stage that's a staple of works like The Mandalorian. This is used in several sequences, dreams, flashbacks, allowing one stage to become another by using one more - three is the magic number for that sort of movie miracle. That's above and beyond various locations, some homes stately enough that the film itself mentions Downton Abbey, others that have (in various ways) the same depth as Parasite.

The supporting cast, especially Marcella Plunkett and Beth Fallon, are great. Havana Rose Liu (also excellent in Bottoms) manages to make watch someone listening interesting, especially when she actually hears something. Among the sultans of swing in The Bride and Groove is Rick's mate Sandy (Peter McDonald), whose loyalty extends even to Hollywood nights. Taking care of business is rarely as emotional, but it's part of Power Ballad's exploration of authenticity. To self, to art, to both.

Is that a difficult path in context? You better you bet. Does it pull it off? As John Anderson, Chris Squire, Rick Wakeman, and seventeen-odd others might say, yes. Would I bang a gong and tell you to see this? You're bloody well right.

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