Once (2007)

Directed by John Carney Drama R 1h 26m

A funny thing, life is. It is an extremely rare thing that a movie captures life so beautifully, that it brings tears to my eyes during the opening sequence. “Once” is that film. There is very little dialogue in the first three minutes, just a long shot, beginning far away from a musician, and creeping in closer, as if the viewer is the observer on that cold Dublin street. The song the man sings is one of longing, and it sets the stage for the entire film. What is life, if not to be constantly longing? This isn’t a bad thing, in fact it is what gives almost all of us a purpose. To bring in that famous phrase from American history, “the pursuit of happiness”. Many films have tried to capture the essence of life through some metaphor of exhibition, and many of them have come close to succeeding. But this small miracle of a motion picture, led by two non-professional actors, shot entirely with handheld cameras, and vehicle for almost entirely unknown modern Irish folk songs, well it succeeds. The runtime is roughly 80 minutes, and there is relatively little dialogue. Music is our guide into these characters’ lives, and what a beautiful guide it is! In short, “Once” is a perfect movie.

John Carney’s fourth directorial feature is simple: guy meets girl and they are instantly connected through their love of music. Music is the way they cope with all the ups and downs of life, and, luckily for us, it is the way in which they communicate most effectively. Carney does something rather special with his little movie. Where most American versions would (and have) played up the love story to corny effect, teasing audiences with a “will they, won’t they” style of storytelling, “Once” weaves its way into a different kind of love story. The two central characters are searching for companionship and understanding, much more than anything else. How do we know this? Because the characters have no name, and we know relatively little about them. The Guy (as his character is credited) played by musician Glen Hansard is the son of a vacuum salesman, and in the meantime, tries to earn an extra penny as a street singer in Dublin. The Girl (Markéta Irglová) is a Czech immigrant who sells flowers, living in a small apartment with her family. 

Any other film would dwell on their past, or on the fact that the girl is married, and thus any other film would create some hurdle they have to overcome. But not this one. The internal conflict each character has is resolved within the first fifteen minutes, as one plays the piano, and the other the guitar, and they sing and harmonize with the other beautifully. That scene alone is one of my favorites to come out of twenty-first century cinema, and I revisit it quite often. In fact, it’s the scene that won them the Academy Award for Best Original Song. So, I’ll say right now, if you have never heard “Falling Slowly”, for the love of God, stop what you are doing and go listen to it. Better yet, just go watch the movie.

There is nothing that stands out about the film on a technical level, another piece of authenticity that makes it so special. There are no grand spectacles, no special high resolution cameras to capture the Irish landscape. The hand-held cameras, the lack of cutting from perspective to perspective are significant elements to make “Once” work so well. Carney didn’t create a world for these characters, nor did he place them in the real world. In fact, these aren’t characters at all. They are people, as real as you and me, and we are just watching a week in their lives.

“Once” is a glimpse at those little moments we find when, somehow, we find ourselves connected to another human being, a connection so strong that a part of our spirit that we had previously though lie dormant is awakened and given an opportunity to thrive. This isn’t love like you would find in a mainstream blockbuster, the kind that ends with a kiss in the rain as the soundtrack swells to a climax. No, that’s Disney love. This type of love is exhibited through a little behavior that has gone missing throughout the bulk of America in the past several years; empathy, understanding, kindness. Not much even needs to be said. The way our two characters look at each other while playing music, or walking down the street is enough for us to understand the instant and powerful connection they have made. 

It is a splendid example of how a stranger can instantly become crucial to the trajectory of your life. In this sense, “Once” is not a story about relationships, or coming-of-age or even music. Instead, it is about sharing in this crazy thing called life, and what it means to find a kindred spirit in this world, a world that could so easily pass one by without acknowledgement. These two people matter to each other, and the way they express that, is through glorious song. The film is so incredibly special that it makes plotlines of Hallmark and Lifetime movies look like what a first grader thinks “love” is.

It’s a very special movie, so special that I am not even sure any piece of writing can do it justice (this one certainly will not). When a film leaves the great Roger Ebert searching for words, its power can’t be denied. (Seriously, it’s one of Ebert’s strangest reviews, and he fully admits to it. Its beauty just can’t seem to be pinned down by the written word). I rewatch the film every September, commemorating the early autumn night back in 2020 when I watched it for the first time on a small television in my home office. “Once” is a miracle of a film that has endured for those lucky enough to stumble upon it in the eighteen years since its release. It is magical, melodic and deeply personal. It is the type of movie that we all need, especially right at this moment. In short, it’s the type of movie that restores your faith in humanity, while its music will remain in your memory long after the credits roll.

★★★★★

“Once” is available to rent on DVD from your local library, or to rent or buy from Apple TV, Amazon Prime, or wherever you rent or buy movies!