In Power Ballad, a Stolen Song Unravels Two Musicians

In John Carney’s movies, music connects people where conversation cannot. But in his latest, it opens a wound.

As soon as Hollywood could talk, it could sing. Marketed as the first “talkie,” 1927’s The Jazz Singer centers on the son of a rabbi (Al Jolson) choosing between the family business and a life on the stage. He picks the latter, embracing modernity and finding his voice as a performer and a (secular) man. But finding your voice is not the end of the story, as the 1952 musical Singin’ in the Rain underscores. The villain of Singin’ in the Rain is the shrill-toned Lina LaMont (Jean Hagen), a silent film star who demands to steal the voice of a mellifluous starlet (Debbie Reynolds). “I wouldn’t do that to her,” the studio chief protests, helplessly. “You’d take her career away. People don’t just do that.”

Of course, people do just that, especially in Hollywood and specifically in Singin’ in the Rain, which itself includes instances of uncredited dubbing. But such hypocrisy has never stopped the Dream Factory from perpetuating stories of voices lost and found, the singing voice standing in for deeply felt, but also deeply monetizable, intellectual property. That’s entertainment!

Irish filmmaker John Carney’s oeuvre is also about singing out, Louise, but his movies strike a winning balance between cynicism and sentimentality. Music is not a metaphor but the literal means of connecting with others and healing yourself in the process; music is also how we, as the audience, can hear characters changing, mostly for the better. In Once (2007), an Irish singer-songwriter (Glen Hasard) meets a Czech pianist (Markéta Irglová) on the streets of Dublin, and repressing their mutual attraction, the two develop a powerful friendship through collaborating on a demo.

Likewise, in Flora and Son (2023), an unfulfilled single mother (Eve Hewson) bonds with her sullen teenage son (Orén Kinlan) and finds love with her guitar instructor (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) after finding a guitar in a dumpster and signing up for online lessons. “It’s very intimate, isn’t it? Singing like that together,” Flora tells her teacher, flirtatiously. “It’s a bit like … we’ve made love or something.” As the two grow closer, their scenes are shot as though the two are in the same room, not falling in love over Zoom, because that is how it feels.

But, in both these films, expression is not all; it must be backed up with craft and talent. When the guitarist in Once goes to get a bank loan........

© New Republic