There’s something to be said for predictability – for coziness and safety, so to speak. And “The Ballad of Wallis Island” might be the coziest movie to come along in quite awhile. And I mean that in the most positive way possible.
Directed by James Griffiths with a screenplay from Tim Key and Tom Basden, “The Ballad of Wallis Island” follows an eccentric – to put it lightly – millionaire named Charles (Key) who invites his favorite musician, Herb McGwyer (Basden), to perform a solo show on the remote island where Charles lives. The catch? He’s also invited Nell Mortimer (Carey Mulligan), Herb’s ex-bandmate and ex-girlfriend, without Herb’s knowledge.
And so begins as cozy of a dramedy as you could ever want. And yet, even with its gentle, comfortable nature, “The Ballad of Wallis Island” aims to make a strong point about the very feeling of comfort it projects, about how we deal with nostalgia and move on. It’s a point that, while sometimes obfuscated by moments of dramatic tension that feel a tad forced, is made clearly and without retreating into treacly sentimentality.
The tone of “The Ballad of Wallis Island” is perfectly pitched from minute one, one of Nell and Herb’s old songs serving as the overture as Herb sloshes up to the island via dinghy (Basden himself wrote all the songs for the fictional folk duo). Herb’s first meeting with Charles is less than pleasant, setting up the tension – the jaded musician versus the sweet, if slightly strange, optimistic fan – that will characterize the rest of the movie. Herb comes across as perpetually slightly annoyed, but his sour mood does nothing to dampen Charles’ spirits as he wades into the water to greet him. Despite Herb’s clear displeasure with … well, everything, Charles refuses to be deterred. As they walk to the house, Charles asks Herb if he remembers meeting him a few years ago. “I meet a lot of people,” Herb says brusquely. “Well, sure you do!” Charles replies with a spring in his step. Nothing phases this guy.
Herb might be Charles’ favorite musician, but his real obsession lies with Herb and Nell, known back then as McGwyer and Mortimer. When Nell shows up with her new husband Michael (Akemnji Ndifornyen), “The Ballad of Wallis Island” becomes a story about learning to forgive and – while not quite learning to forget – learning to stop living in the past.
“The Ballad of Wallis Island” is a movie that, even at its worst (as Nell’s husband, Ndifornyen is saddled with a character whose personality abruptly changes from scene to scene) overflows with humanity. But perhaps no actor more embodies that feeling than Key as Charles.
Charles is a bit of a tricky role. His love of McGwyer and Mortimer is something he shared with his late wife, and that loss garners him our sympathy almost immediately. But he is also, objectively, sort of a stalker, and in less deft hands the whole thing could have been too cutesy, or too weird. But Key, who might be the one of the best to ever do it when it comes to staring at someone adoringly on the verge of tears, is a lovable dingbat from the moment he offers to carry Herb to shore until the very end.
His love for the folk duo, however earnest and sweet, is also something that keeps him firmly grounded in his past. In disposition, Charles and Herb couldn’t be more different, but they both share a refusal to move on that keeps them from the peace that so permeates the film.
As Herb and Nell prepare for the concert, the drama of their breakup – both professionally and personally – begins to resurface, and it becomes clear that Herb has never really gotten over the split. Nell, on the other hand, has built an entirely new life for herself. The movie offers a light commentary on the gender dynamics of their duo, giving the impression that Nell was undervalued by both Herb and their fans – there are multiple quips about her contributions to the songwriting while they were together, and the concert almost falls apart when she finds out that Charles is paying her less.
In a lesser version of this movie, Nell might have had the chance to prove to Herb that she was always much more than second fiddle, to find that spark of inspiration once again. But, in a much more interesting move, “The Ballad of Wallis Island” allows Nell her peace. It’s not so much that she’s completely over what happened between her and Herb, or that she doesn’t enjoy playing music with him again, or getting the chance to feel like a real musician. But she is able to separate nostalgia from true happiness, something Herb – and Charles – have to learn.
That’s not to say there’s not plenty of nostalgia baked into “The Ballad of Wallis Island” – that’s sort of the whole point of the plucky, dulcet tones of the early 2010s folk music, and Charles’ mansion is filled with nothing but McGwyer and Mortimer merch. Nostalgia is a comfortable feeling, and there’s nothing wrong with seeking comfort. The trouble comes when you can’t leave the past behind.
