It’s easy to say, “They don’t make movies like that anymore,” and then a film like Once comes around.
As the director admits in the extras, the plot could be scribbled in its entirety on a cocktail napkin, but its execution is brilliant in its simplicity, reservedness, and honesty.
One of the things I miss most about playing and performing in an ensemble is that ephemeral, alchemic moment when everything falls into place, and the song transforms into something more than mere sound. It lives, and it becomes much grander than the musicians or notes on a page could ever be on their own. You literally played a part in its creation.
Many times, the individuals who contributed to and with whom you shared this powerful experience are strangers. Once they walk off stage, you may never see them again. However, it doesn’t diminish the power of the song and the experience you now carry, going forward.
I’d consider Once a find if the film only captured that moment. But it succeeds on a whole other level that modern movies don’t often explore.
As much as the story is “guy meets girl,” it’s even more about their shared love for something much larger than themselves and how that love inspires each of them, as individuals, to act unselfishly for the other person’s benefit. In the end, The Guy and The Girl face the future with optimism, with grace, and without regrets.
Whether they end up together isn’t the point of the story. That’s probably why Once resonates with so many people.