The Greatest Trick

Whether Once warrants being seen more than once remains to be seen, but based on one viewing, I was quite impressed. It’s the kind of film where you leave the cinema thinking it wasn’t anything particularly special, but then can’t stop thinking about it and realise that perhaps it was a little bit special after all.

Essentially, it’s a modern-day musical about an Irish busker and a Czech immigrant who meet by chance and are immediately drawn together through a mutual love of music. As a result, over the following week they write, rehearse and record songs that provide the commentary on their relationship. We find out very little about these two characters, not even their names (they are listed in the credits simply as “Guy” and “Girl”). However, it is clear they are both down on their luck as a result of previous relationships. Obviously in a Hollywood production, true love would conquer all, and they would go on to become a huge singing/songwriting success.

But Once is a micro-budget Irish film, and as such writer/director John Carnard’s strength is his refusal to tie up loose ends in a neat bundle. The deliberately rough-around-the-edges screenplay has the ebb and flow of real life and it studiously avoids clichés not just around the unrequited love story but also its peripheral themes (such as immigration). Marketa Irglova and Glen Hansard are both superb as Girl and Guy respectively, and the supporting cast do very well in their small roles, especially Bill Hodnet as Guy’s warm-hearted Dad. In fact, throughout the duration of this small gem, the audience isn’t introduced to even one unpleasant character – even the drug addict who tries to steal Guy’s busking money.

There are a few funny bits; especially near the beginning where Girl trails after Guy with her broken hoover trying to get him to fix it (she discovers he has a job at his Dad’s hoover repair shop). However, the key moments in the film are of course the songs, which are generally angst-ridden indie folk ballads. But even if that kind of music isn’t your scene, don’t be put off. One of the film’s joys is watching the progression of the music – from Guy roughly bellowing out numbers on a street corner using his falling-to-pieces guitar, to the slick recording in the studios near the end. The musically inclined will obviously appreciate this more than others, but even if you have no musical ability whatsoever, the process will capture your interest because the plight of the protagonists is one of universal resonance.

Its short – under 90 minutes – and certainly seems simple, but it gets under the skin in a Brief Encounter kind of way, and apart from some strong language is a joy for the eye and ear. In short, it’s a lovely little film and well worth a look. By the way, apologies for the lateness of this review since this film came out over a month ago.

Simon Dillon, December 2007.