ONCE

Written and Directed by John Carney

Art has the unique ability of transport- a glance, a note, a shot, they all have the power to navigate our memories and bring us back to a specific point in our lives. For me it is the power of music that is most effective in this endeavour, as my life has a very distinct and clear soundtrack, each song dog-tagged with an emotional moment that always seems to revolve around the notion of love lost or gained.

Perhaps the movies have given us this overtly romanticized notion of "our song," but I think it is not too far from reality- there is a song for every moment of our lives. Not in the sense that a particular song was playing in the background when a specific moment happened, rather there are songs that express what we're feeling better than any words can do. That is the true magic of music, of art.

It's hard for me to express, so how fortunate am I that the tiny no-budget Irish independent film ONCE has done a far better job explaining the phenomenon of the power of song. The film is a capsule of a moment, with a soundtrack crafted to embrace these memories in our minds and hearts forever.

ONCE is a musical romance in the most traditional sense. As in every romantic film, the guy and the girl meet cute, exchange witty banter, sing songs together, and away we go. But what is so remarkable about ONCE is that it is firmly set in reality, the songs are meaningful beyond words, and the people involved are real flesh and blood, and not caricatures of people in love.

The guy and the girl (who do not have names, so as to imply the universality of the relationship) are two people on the fringes of society. He is a vacuum cleaner repairman by day and a busker by night, singing songs of his own invention on the sidewalks of Dublin for the pennies of the occasional passersby. She is a Czech immigrant, doing odd jobs and living in a flat shared with her mother and daughter, and a host of other immigrants.

The girl hears boy sing one evening, and she loves what she hears. Herself a musician, she offers an opportunity to sing one of his songs together in a musical instrument shop, he on his guitar and she on piano. He accepts, and the first inkling of a common bond is established.

The girl is, as in most romantic films of this nature, a quirky, attractive, free spirit, but as the guy and the audience learns in an awkward scene, she is not the stereotypical muse who serves to only inspire beautiful songs of longing. She is, rather, just another wounded soul, just like him, in need of a companion and some comfort. Music is the bridge over this gap, and it is used to brilliant effect to convey the inner turmoil and common desires of two people who could be no more different.

It's not until later that we understand who these songs are really about, and it is a far more romantic gesture than I can describe. Through these songs we understand that we have a different love for different people. It reminds me, fittingly, of an old Irish proverb that my grandfather (who is Indian, not Irish) told me some time ago:

"A man has three loves in his life; his mother, whom he loves the longest, his wife, whom he loves the most, and his sweetheart, whom he loves the best."

ONCE encapsulates this proverb perfectly, and the final shot of the film is the ultimate affirmation of this belief. The romance of this film is so apt because it does not decry that there is an ultimate love, rather, love is diverse and it creates the most beautiful, complex, painful, and rich tapestries out of our lives.

The performances are top notch with Glen Hansard, real-life lead singer of the brilliant Irish band The Frames, playing the boy with a wounded innocence and awkward charm. He is a good lad, raised well by his parents, and, as with most artists, is relatively modest about the power of his art. The girl, played by Marketa Irglova, transcends the otherworldly intelligence of her character, a woman who has been hurt but has a lot to give- but only to the right person, someone whom she can trust, someone who can share her pain and joy with.

Director John Carney, a musician himself, made the bold choice of choosing musicians over actors who could sing, and his treatment of the actors and the material remains true to the struggles and joys of musicians, who create within their own unique idiom. Shot largely using a telephoto lenses from a distance, Carney allows his actors to roam about Dublin and play their roles true to real life. We don't get the cliché close ups showing love and longing on the faces of the protagonists, rather, it is the music that is the window into these people's hearts and souls.

Like any fond memory, my recollection of ONCE doesn't really pay the film justice. As I listen to the soundtrack I'm taken back to the lives of these two complete strangers, and I recall my time spent with them, and through their music, I feel like they've shared a very special moment in their lives with me. I wish I could reciprocate, sharing my stories of love lost and found. But alas, they're just characters in a film, and I shall reserve my tales for my friends and family, told over coffee or dinner on lazy summer evenings, in both strange and comfortable places, with a song for every moment. And I'm sure I'll bring up this film when I do.

ONCE is one of the best films of the year, if not the best. Seek it out.