'Once' is unpredictable film

Directed by John Carney

Rated R

(Four Stars)

By Bruce Bulloch

On a street in Dublin a jumpy young addict chats up a wary busker. The musician (Glen Hansard) isn't quite sure what to expect from this conversation - whether his money or simply his patience is in peril. The scene, shot in the static, slightly grainy cinematography common to low-budget films, has the same rumpled look as the musician and it's hard not to join him in wondering what, if anything, you're going to get from this encounter.

And yet, by the time the final credits role in "Once", director John Carney's quirky, almost-a-rock-musical, you have to be amazed by how far you've been swept along on this bittersweet emotional journey.

Hansard's unnamed musician is living out a low-luck life singing crowd-pandering pop tunes on the street while the occasional junkie hungrily eyes the change in his guitar case. He works with his father (Bill Hodnett) in a cluttered little shop fixing vacuum cleaners and the rest of his time is consumed by writing impassioned love songs about the girl who dumped him.

Late at night he attracts an audience of one, a young immigrant woman (Marketa Irglova) who takes a fancy to one of his original songs as well as the fact he knows how to fix a Hoover.

She shows up the next day dragging a broken vacuum cleaner and the two end up sharing their stories about a common love of music, romantic disappointment, and lives that are always a few steps away from their dreams.

"Once" is meditation on yearning: the courage it takes to move towards desire, the ways one learns to cope with its distance, and the sweet, unexpected detours that surprise you on the journey.

The film's ability to capture and hold such a delicate emotional current owes a debt, in part, to the music the two create, and in part to the awkward but electric chemistry between Hansard and Irglova.

"Once" doesn't break into musical set pieces like "Hairspray", for example. But this story about musicians does take the time to let their music speak for them. When the two are singing, the camera waits patiently for the song to run its course and along the way exposes deeper feelings than the two could articulate in conversation.

Marketa Irglova bubbles up from the flat documentary-style production values with a no-nonsense vitality that's impossible to resist. She manages to make the film's simple story believable and throw everything into play, all at the same time.

Hansard, who has been obsessing over a girl who's not around, is disoriented by his attraction for the girl who is. Hansard has a hangdog quality that contrasts neatly with Irglova's cheery pragmatism. Together they create what may be the most satisfying odd couple on film this year.

The girl decides it's time the musician get off his duff and record a few of those songs he keeps agonizing over. Gathering up a scruffy group of street musicians, they form a band, rent a recording studio, and teeter ever closer to the edge of romance.

Whether they find happiness together, or the musician finally finds success with his songs is a closely guarded secret that keeps you guessing right up until the end. Carney has a knack for dodging expected outcomes pulling you into moments that strike a deep emotional chord.

"Once" is the kind of art house film that should be playing at a neighborhood theater like the Admiral. It is at once an unpretentious, intelligent, and satisfying story that you're more than willing to follow along its unpredictable path.

Bruce Bulloch may be reached via wseditor@robinsonnews.com