I’m a big fan of Irish writer/director John Carney; I’ve seen most of his films apart from a couple from early in his career. Having the eternally-likable Paul Rudd as a washed-up wedding singer is brilliant casting. Like most of Carney’s films, Power Ballad blends comedy and drama, using music and relationships as the heart of the story.

Rick Power (Rudd) is a former rocker from Kansas City (Rudd’s hometown) who now lives in Dublin (Carney’s hometown), where he makes a living playing in a wedding cover band called Bride & Groove. His glory days are long behind him, but things take an unexpected turn when he meets former boy band star Danny Wilson (Nick Jonas), who happens to be attending his best friend’s wedding where Rick’s band is performing. After the reception, the two end up sharing drinks and a late-night jam session. A little drunk and feeling nostalgic, Rick plays Danny an old song he wrote years ago called How to Write a Song Without You.

Fast forward months later, and Danny ends up turning Rick’s sentimental ballad into a comeback hit. His money-hungry music manager Mac Darling (Jack Reynor) is ecstatic, as Danny’s been struggling with his solo career. Havana Rose Liu pops up briefly as Danny’s former girlfriend, and it’s a sweet moment when she lights up after hearing him play the song on the piano. The ballad is incredibly catchy too—I was still humming it weeks after watching the movie. That’s not surprising, though, since I’ve always loved the music in Carney’s films. This one easily ranks among my favorites, right up there with Falling Slowly from Once and Drive It Like You Stole It and To Find You from Sing Street.

The story is pretty predictable—I could see almost every twist coming beat by beat, right down to the scene where Rick hears the song he wrote playing over the speakers while he’s shopping at a local mall. He’s stunned to discover that Danny has essentially claimed the song as his own without giving him any credit. To make matters worse, his wife Rachel (Marcella Plunkett), daughter Aja (Beth Fallon), and even his bandmates have no memory of him ever playing it. Much like The Christophers, which touches on authorship and creative ownership, Power Ballad explores similar ideas through the lens of songwriting. The thing is, Rick never officially registered the song or filed a copyright for it, which makes it even more complicated for him to claim ownership.

Carney and his co-writer, fellow Dubliner Peter McDonald, take a thoughtful look at the age-old struggle between chasing fame and prioritizing family—a choice many artists eventually have to make. Rick seems content with his humble family life, but when something like this happens, those dreams he thought he had buried come rushing back to the surface. That said, the movie makes it clear that Rick isn’t really motivated by money or fame. More than anything, he wants validation. Here’s a guy with a chip on his shoulder who’s spent years feeling overlooked. All he really wants is to be recognized as someone capable of writing a hit song. 

Rick is so desperate that he heads to Los Angeles with his bandmate Sandy (also played by McDonald) in the hope of finally confronting Danny. The LA portion of the story goes off the rails at times with overly silly and over-the-top scenes at Danny’s lavish mansion, but the film never loses sight of its emotional core. Rudd shines in a role that makes the most of his natural charm, goofball nature, and optimism. Jonas is quite good here in the role that suits him well. It’s wise that the movie doesn’t turn Danny into a one-dimensional villain. Instead, the script recognizes that even a successful pop star is often just a cog in the relentless machinery of the music industry. Danny comes across as conflicted and vulnerable in his own way, struggling to stay relevant in a business that’s overcrowded, unpredictable, and financially unforgiving. 

Carney understands this world well enough to tell a story that’s poignant and heartfelt, with that warm, feel-good vibe that has become a hallmark of his films. What I appreciated most is how the movie got me thinking about bigger questions surrounding music ownership and artistic integrity. Can success really feel meaningful if it’s built on a lie? And when it comes to chasing your dreams, what are you willing to sacrifice along the way?

The one thing I find a bit lacking is the relationship between Rick and his daughter Aja, which I feel is not as developed as it could be. Given that he actually wrote the song for his daughter, while Danny made it out to be a romantic ballad, I think it warrants a few more meaningful scenes between the two. Still, it’s clear which side Carney is on when it comes to the fame versus family dilemma, and that’s evident in the ending. 

Power Ballad was one of my favorite MSPIFF films I saw back in April, and it’s now in theaters. I highly recommend this one if you love music-centric movies, and Rudd would easily steal your heart with one of his best, most grounded performances.