Out of SXSW, Power Ballad got a lot of love from critics, who cheered its feel-good comedy vibe. I'll concur that it's a warmly silly movie with a big heart, an appreciation of music, and a happy ending. But frankly, I still hope for more from writer/director John Carney. 

In 2007, he gave audiences the wondrous Once, an original musical drama about an Irish busker (Glen Hansard) who falls for a struggling musician (Markéta Irglová) in Dublin. Visually, it was scrappy, shot in the early days of digital filmmaking. But emotionally, it resonated with lived-in performances and a soundtrack that won an Academy Award for Best Song, launched a real band, and led to a Broadway adaptation. That movie felt like magic. And I know that by writing this I risk turning this review into a reprise of my take on his last film, Flora and Son. But Carney can do — and has done — better. 

Once was so alive in its songs and their performances that it felt blisteringly original, like no one but Carney could make it. Then in 2016, he thrilled with Sing Street, a enchanting coming-of-age comedy that also relied on a crackling soundtrack and lesser-known actors. But then Carney made Begin Again, Flora and Son, and now Power Ballad, all of which lean into tedious Hollywood tropes about love and music, making for middling movies. 

Sure, the promotional posters and feisty trailers for Power Ballad promise comically fired-up Paul Rudd facing off against an untouchable Nick Jonas, a busted has-been versus a pop prince. But Power Ballad itself never ignites, or even sizzles. Its flame is squelched before it begins. 

What's Power Ballad about? 

Paul Rudd stars as Rick Power, a middle-aged American who came to Dublin 15 years ago on tour with his rock band. What might have been a path to fame and fortune was rerouted when Rick met the cool girl who'd become his wife (Marcella Plunkett), and they had a daughter (Beth Fallon) together. Nowadays, he still rocks, but as the lead of a wedding band called the Bride and Groove. As such, he mostly plays cover songs, though he still yearns to make music of his own. So, when one wedding gig throws him in the path of former boy bander Danny Wilson (Nick Jonas), Rick is giddy to spend the night jamming and talking shop. 

Both men walk away feeling great and grateful for the camaraderie. That is, until Danny struggles to create a single for his first solo album. That's when he snatches a chorus Rick played for him to construct a song that becomes a smash hit in record time. Now, in a genuinely charming turn, Carney scripts Rick to be not furious but hopeful. He believes he just needs to get in touch with Danny to get his due, be it credit or a check. But when it becomes increasingly clear that Danny is dodging him — thanks to his snarling manager, Mac Darling (Jack Reynor) — Rick and his weird bestie, Sandy (Peter McDonald), set off to Los Angeles to set things right. Hollywood hijinks ensue, but the laughs are cheap and the humanity is shallow. 

Power Ballad is infuriatingly thin. 

After their pivotal meeting, it seems Power Ballad will shift into two-hander mode, by paralleling each man’s journey home. Rick returns to the cozy but cramped house he shares with his wife and child in the suburbs of Dublin, Danny nods to fans at LAX, piles into a luxury convertible, then pulls up to a mansion in the Hollywood hills, with no one to greet him. 

Danny has a girlfriend. But she is barely given a name, much less any personality, which is a real waste of Havana Rose Liu (Bottoms). This thinness applies to the women in Rick‘s life too. His daughter, in her early teens, chiefly exists to roll her eyes at her dad. His wife either bursts with horny enthusiasm for him, or stern scorn. 

This might be expected if this was supposed to be about two men in arrested development facing their own shortcomings, but the film quickly loses interest in Danny’s psychological journey. There are some glancing scenes where he talks about whether or not he feels like he stole the song, but there will be no satisfying answer on who he is and what he wants, beyond avoiding the pitfall of being a failed solo artist.

This leaves the film to center firmly on Rick Powers. His middle-aged bitterness is tempered by his chaotic sidekick Sandy, who is similarly undeveloped, though thoroughly entertaining. The same cannot be said for Power Ballad as a whole.

The film's pace is meandering at best, swerving from moments of sentimentality to scenes of Rick’s impotent frustration, to comedy set-ups that are just never as funny as one might hope for a Paul Rudd movie. For a film that is centered on someone who is undeniably angry, Power Ballad is weirdly toothless. The aforementioned happy ending feels like a forgone conclusion, even if it’s not remotely earned by plotting or emotional flow. 

And none of this is helped by the fact that the music is just not that good. When Carney broke out with Once, he offered songs that felt soul-shakingly earnest. They were so beautiful that the tiny Irish film with no big stars would not be ignored by the world at large. Power Ballad isn’t looking to change the world. In playing to mainstream audiences who love Paul Rudd, pop music, and Nick Jonas, Carney has sacrificed spark and soul. 

To Paul Rudd's credit, he throws himself into the comedy here. But when it comes to singing, everything feels processed and potentially enhanced with autotune, which undercuts the movie's message about musical authenticity. Jonas, on the other hand, can sing the hell out of these pop songs. But when it comes to the comedy, he's as wooden as the acoustic guitar Danny gifts to Rick.

In the end, Power Ballad is an unchallenging comedy that is sure to make many smile, maybe even laugh. But it’s a far echo from the cinematic magic that Carney has shown himself to be capable of. 

Power Ballad opens in limited release on May 29, expanding on June 5.