John Carney, the director of “Once” and other beguiling romantic musical fairy tales, is not afraid to make a movie — or celebrate a song — that’s as sincere as the soft-rock albums you might be embarrassed to admit you own. Carney wants you to know that he owns them, too. An essential element of the Carney experience is the way his movies say, “Own your sappiness! Forget the embarrassment. If you can’t wear your heart on your sleeve, where else are you going wear it?”
“Once,” which Carney made for $160,000 in 2007, was a plaintive love-story duet, and the films he has directed since then, which have won him an ardent following — they include “Begin Again” (2013), “Sing Street” (2016), and “Flora and Son” (2023) — have been about unlikely partners who come together through song. So when we see the set-up of “Power Ballad,” his latest a-love-song-can-save-us confection, we think we know just where it’s headed. But we don’t.
The movie is about two characters who are seasoned musicians. Rick Power (Paul Rudd) is a wedding singer who has been living in Ireland for 15 years. He fronts a band called the Bride and Groove (“Ireland’s grooviest wedding band”), pumping out spirited versions of jukebox chestnuts (“Celebrate,” “The Boys Are Back in Town”). Rick is happily married, to an Irish woman named Rachel (Marcella Plunkett), and they have a 14-year-old daughter, Aja (Beth Fallon). He’s a man who likes his life. But once — ah, once — he had a dream. He led a band called Octogan, and they had a record contract and concert tours. They just never quite made it, in part because Rick took a year off when his daughter was born. Every once in a while, he’ll perform one of his songs during a wedding gig, and we see him imagining an arena full of screaming fans right in front of him. It’s a dream that passed, but one he can’t let go of.