As sweet and tender as a lover's kiss, The Ballad of Wallis Island, directed by James Griffiths and co-written by leads Tom Basden and Tim Key, follows a washed-up musician rediscovering his groove in the unlikeliest of places. While this setup may sound all too familiar, the British dramedy's nuanced screenplay and charming performances elevate it above its generic premise.
For a brief moment, Herb McGwyer (Basden) was living the dream. Years ago, he and his then-lover Nell Mortimer (Carey Mulligan) formed the folk rock group McGwyer Mortimer. Together they achieved music stardom, climbing the charts and winning over legions of adoring fans. Their love eventually fizzled out as Herb's ego swelled and he left Nell behind to go solo. In the years since, he stopped writing heartfelt folk ballads in favour of soulless commercial music.
In need of cash to produce his next album, Herb agrees to perform at a small private gig on a tiny Welsh island in the middle of nowhere. It turns out that "small gig" is actually for an audience of one: Charles Heath (Key), a wealthy McGwyer Mortimer superfan. Charles still clings to memories of enjoying the band with his late wife, and the private concert serves to honour her memory while beginning the next chapter in his life.
Charles neglects to tell Herb he's performing with Nell until she arrives on the island with her husband Michael (Akemnji Ndifornyen) in tow. Nell's presence stirs up a torrent of unresolved feelings in Herb. But despite the duo's messy history, their natural chemistry might be just what Herb needs to reignite his creative spark.
The Ballad of Wallis Island echoes the best of Irish filmmaker John Carney's filmography, drawing similarities to his films Once and Sing Street. Like those movies, The Ballad of Wallis Island offers a soulful character study propelled by a clever screenplay, winsome performances and delightful original music. And much like Carney's finest work, Griffiths's film rings hopeful yet tinged with melancholy, delivering a moving experience that lingers long after the credits roll.
What sets The Ballad of Wallis Island apart is its refusal to tie up every dangling plot thread in a neat little bow. Some tensions remain unresolved, withholding a definitive sense of closure. Griffiths doesn't spell everything out for viewers either; instead conveying much of the story through a character's subtle glances and the things left unsaid. With the talented cast delivering such layered performances, there's little need for heavy-handed exposition.
Mulligan brings a quiet self-assurance to Nell, her firm sense of identity acting in stark contrast to Herb and his wavering ideals. Basden plays Herb as a hollowed-out drifter, his faltering ego on the verge of toppling like a Jenga tower, while Sian Clifford lights up the screen as Amanda, a perpetually perplexed local shopkeeper who gives Charles the warm fuzzies.
But it's Key's performance as Charles that forms the heart and soul of the movie. Based on the 2007 short The One and Only Herb McGwyer Plays Wallis Island (also written by Basden and Key), it's clear this story and its characters have lived in Key's head for years. He brings Charles to life with vivid detail, portraying him as a broken man pretending to be whole, using humour to mask his pain and longing. Watching his jovial facade slowly crumble is quietly devastating.
Time and again, Griffiths chooses to zig where other filmmakers would zag. He withholds obvious feel-good moments in service of a bittersweet story that feels emotionally authentic. Anchored by Key's touching performance, The Ballad of Wallis Island is a thoughtful, funny and earnest film — one that feels as warm and soothing as slipping into a cozy old sweater.