REVIEW. THE BALLAD OF WALLIS ISLAND: Three stanzas in search of a melody.

From left, Tom Basden, Tim Key and Carey Mulligan

Some of you who have known me for awhile are painfully aware that my favorite kind of movie is small, intimate and probably based on lost love. Perhaps, the kind of exquisite emotional pain that comes from longing speaks to my own sense of searching for life's meaning, celebrating its joys and coming to terms with dreams dashed, relationships failed, and the fact that we all must find our own "happy ending." In another way, I'm drawn to characters that can raise up the human condition and find hope and purpose in who they are and what they are doing.

Such is the case with The Ballad of Wallis Island, which gives us, not one but three (well, maybe four) souls potentially adrift in a sea of heartbreak, regret and disillusion. Sounds pretty pathetic, though forlorn is arguably the better adjective, especially given the movie's isolated location (shades of 2022's evocativeThe Banshees of Inisherin) on an island somewhere in the Irish sea (the movie was actually shot off the coast of Wales).

There we find Charles Heath (Tim Key), a former male nurse and two-time lottery winner who invites his favorite folk singer Herb McGwyer (Tom Basden) to come to the island and perform in concert for an audience of "less than 100" and a fee of half-million pounds. Not too shabby, and Herb - now desperate to make a musical comeback as a pop singer - arrives to find Charles has provided for his every comfort, so far as comfort is available on Wallis Island: Herb's favorite apples, boxes of contraband cigarettes, and a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue.

If Charles' superfandom sounds eerily like Annie Wilkes in Stephen King's novel-turned-movie, Misery (Kathy Bates won an Oscar for her lead performance as Annie), it's not. I've seen a few reviews reference Misery as the basis for Ballad, but the comparison ends with the idea of a superfan meeting his idol. Ditto 1996's The Fan, another psychological thriller that shows the extremes of celebrity obsession. No substantive similarities here, so it you're looking for over-the-top histrionics and queasy violence, you've come to the wrong place. The only queasiness here is recurring butterflies in the stomach (by the characters); the violence emotional (ditto, the characters... unless you get really attached or unusually introspective). The actors are so low-key even their eventual meldowns are subdued.

Herb isn't the only guest Charles invites for a concert. He's also asked Herb's former musical partner and lover Nell Mortimer (a luminous Carey Mulligan), from whom Herb has long been estranged and for whom he still carries a torch. Nell arrives with American husband Michael (Akemnji Ndifornyen), an avid birdwatcher quickly sent on an extended aviary excursion at a remote edge of the island, and who shows nothing but disdain for Herb's new music. Michael makes it clear they've come to the island only for the generous stipend Charles has offered, though we soon learn that Nell's promised performance fee is only slightly more than half Herb's.

As McGwyer and Mortimer revisit their past, their music, their lost love and lingering feelings, Charles bears witness to their reunion with melancholy hope: his own beloved wife, Marie, died five years earlier, leaving Charles surrounded by loneliness and memories. In one touching seen, we watch Charles playing tennis alone, batting the ball - tied to string - back and forth with increasing frustration and, ultimately heartbreak.

We learn that McGwyer Mortimer was Marie's favorite group, and he's invited them to perform on what would have been the fifth anniversary of her passing. Their individual reasons for showing up - for the money, for the reunion, for the curiosity of the offer, all factor into the ensuing conversations and eventual outcomes.

This narrative construct could easily descend into a contrived, overly sentimental puddle of mush, but co-screenwriters Basden and Key never let the point of their story vanish into the Irish fog. Instead, they keep momentum through a series of very possible conversations on topics ranging from tennis to chutney, from pay inequities among musicians to the fake marketing of pop stars, and situations that come directly from Charles' desire to keep Marie alive in his heart. Though we never see her and know little about her except for her love of McGwyer Mortimer's music, Marie's spirit is very present and drives the story in ways that are genuine in terms of how people handle various kinds of grief and loss.

I'll leave the rest of movie for you to explore, and it is well worth the time investment at a very frugal one hundred minutes. I could have listened to post-rock musician Adam Ilhan's poignant score much longer, and I hope Alhan's score and Basden's original songs won't be forgotten by the time Oscar nominations roll around.

Based on Basden and Key's 2007 short film, The One and Only Herb McGwyer Plays Wallis Island, which was nominated for a 2008 BAFTA for Best Short Film and won the Edinburgh International Festival Award in the same category, The Ballad of Wallis Island expands the original fan-boy premise to explore the personal and emotional ways we develop attachments to celebrities, especially the ways that artstry (in this case, music) takes on new meanings for those who connect with it. McGwyer Mortimer's songs may have been born of their own complicated love story, but they took on new and important meaning for Marie and, now Charles.

James Griffiths, who directed both films, balances the absurdity of Charles' concert request with the consequences of his actions (re: Nell knows she's been invited to a McGwyer Mortimer reunion, Herb does not), allowing the characters to engage first in the kinds of conversations typical of strangers (or those long estranged), and then to watch those exchanges evolve into something deeper, more existential, about life's journey and the way we choose to embrace it.

Without making more of Ballad than an effective troubador might offer, I would offer it as a fine film to watch via streaming. I bought tickets to see it in the theater back in April, only to receive a "regrets" refund from AMC Theaters, saying they had removed it from its run across multiple Chicago-area theaters. Disappointed at the time - and at AMC's decision that the movie wasn't worthy of a wider release - I was pleasantly surprised to find it available via streaming earlier this week. And, after a tough Cleveland Guardians' loss earlier in the day, the movie's woebegone premise beckoned.

So, if you're looking for a tale as old as time told in a setting as desolate as Bronte's English moors, The Ballad of Wallis Island might just be the ticket. But be forewarned: the British accents are as thick as the North Atlantic fog and the cinematography captures eloquently the dark, tragic and wistful secrets each character carries deep within.

There's no graphic violence, no extended chase sequences, no CGI-generated technological wizardry. The only special effects here are those found in the actors' ability to expose the heart in ways that illuminate gentle insight into the human condition.

*******

The Ballad of Wallis Island is currently streaming on Peacock. Unlike some streaming services which charge extra for new or popular movies, Ballad is available without additional rental cost, so check it out some lonesome Saturday night. As a possible yardstick of interest, my husband typically naps after dinner, and he was wide awake (without prompting) the whole time.