Back in 2004 I had my heart broken.
Yes, yes, a very exciting story indeed. It was my first time living away from home and I met a boy I fancied who acted like he liked me back until we slept together. It wasn’t even that I was in love with him or anything like that; I didn’t think I was. But it was the first time I had been rejected by someone I was vulnerable to. I did the only mature thing an 18-year-old could do and spent an entire semester moping about it. I picked up knitting, played Kingdom Hearts with my friend Lauren, and listened to an ungodly amount of the Garden State soundtrack. Being an adjacent emo kid, “It’s alright, ‘cause there’s beauty in the breakdown” was the eye-rolling shit I clung to. It was comforting to hear the same soft, warm melodies over and over, lulling me to sleep.
Several years later, in 2007, I had my heart broken again, this time by a person who I was deeply in love with. I cannot possibly explain how intense of an experience it was because I was completely blindsided by it. I was a zombie at work and cried constantly (and in public several times, which vexed my mother while I was openly weeping in Kroger). I stopped eating, I bitterly wrote passive-aggressive livejournal posts… just like, the most extra you can be as a forlorn 20-year-old. I went away to school for my senior year and tried desperately to bury myself in activities with my friends because I refused to let this asshole win. The most Basic Bitch moment of my life was when I earnestly sang along with “Since You’ve Been Gone” during a foam party at a gay bar. It was all fun, baseball games, and crawling on top of cars trying to grin and bear it, but the next morning, alone in my car I listened to the Once soundtrack on repeat. Where before I had The Shins guiding me into a state of numbness, I couldn’t listen to The Shins anymore because they liked listening to The Shins. Instead I found comfort in the anxious preamble of “Say It To Me Now” followed by the cathartic release of “Leave”.
I, like probably most of the world, had no exposure to Glen Hansard and what later became The Swell Season before Once was released, and I only caught it by accident because it was playing on HBO constantly. Flipping channels, sleep deprived and holding on to my sanity by the skin of my teeth, catching some random guy belting out “Say It To Me Now” while playing an acoustic guitar hit me like a fucking brick to my stomach.
The premise of the movie is simple – a Girl (Markéta Irglová) meets a Guy (Glen Hansard) in front of a shop while he’s busking, asks him about the woman who broke his heart badly enough that it caused him to write such a song, and instead discovers The Guy is single (and also repairs vacuum cleaners). The next day she shows up on the street trailing her broken hoover behind her, they hang out for the day and discover that they both share a similar passion for music.
While initially The Guy thinks this connection means they should bang, they instead work through that inclination and cobble some money together to rent a recording studio before The Guy runs off to London to fix things with the ex he was so cagey about before. The Girl has similar hangups – originally from the Czech Republic, she’s currently living in Dublin with her mother and raising her daughter alone because she and her husband are estranged. Supporting The Guy in his own dream of musical superstardom also allows her to play piano (an instrument she loves but can’t afford to buy) and experience a little bit of something special outside of her home and work life.
The two recruit a few other street musicians and record an entire album in a weekend. After their marathon recording session the two flirt with the idea of hooking up for real, but the reality of The Girl’s situation almost immediately dampens the fantasy. Instead The Girl ghosts The Guy in order to patch things up with her husband for the sake of their kid, and The Guy buys her a piano before leaving for London. The end.
The story is fairly basic, but the element that makes this film truly extraordinary is the music. The aesthetics, story and acting are more akin to a student film made for your capstone program over the course of a few weekends. They filmed the movie in 17 days for around 100k, giving it almost a documentary-equse aesthetic (in fact Markéta said she was constantly approached by people asking about the child she doesn’t have because the line between fiction and reality was so blurry). Large parts of the dialogue were built on vibes, which is probably why some of it feels super awkward and repetitive. In commentary, the Director John Carney said the positive response to Once from Americans was surprising to him since they were unconcerned about actually hearing and understanding the dialogue, but he surmised it was because Once was a musical movie and the tone was more important than substance. I posit that maybe they didn’t care about the dialogue because it’s… not very good.
The acting is… I mean, it’s fine. It’s mostly inoffensive, but you can tell the two are not comfortable being on camera. Carney clearly prioritized the music by hiring musicians that don’t act to play the protagonists, which is the opposite of what I normally see and bitch about in musical movies. And I don’t want to imply that their performances are unwatchable – The first scene in the movie where The Guy has to chase down a dude who tries stealing his guitar case is hilarious, especially after catching him, chucking him a few bucks out of guilt, and then fielding small talk questions about his family while they catch their breath. Glen and Markéta also had the benefit of being real life friends so there are several charming exchanges between the two, like fighting over who gets to drive the motorcycle, or the little shoulder squeeze Glen gives Markéta after she plays “The Hill” for him. Where they really shine are during the truly delightful live musical performances that stick with you, even 20 years later.
Glen and Markéta’s musical chemistry is incredibly apparent on film, dwarfing any middling criticism I have of their acting on camera. They were recording as The Swell Season before this film was made, and after this film wrapped they toured as the group for several years, riding the unexpected critical acclaim of Once. They won an Academy Award in 2007 for “Falling Slowly”, making Markéta the first Czech woman to win an Oscar.
The songs themselves were used as a way for the characters to reveal their past to each other and often were written during shooting by Glen and Markéta as the story evolved, sometimes even the night before they were needed. “Broken Hearted Hoover Fixer Sucker Guy” was improvised, which honestly was fun to watch because Markéta’s reaction to it was genuine. It serves to communicate how uncomfortable The Guy was sharing his feelings without a guitar in his hands. Most of the songs were recorded live, with some like “When Your Mind’s Made Up” tweaked a bit afterward by The Frames since the metal drummer they hired for the movie amusingly couldn’t play the song. “If You Want Me” is the closest the movie gets to an actual music video with The Girl walking the street at night singing with a recording of a beat The Guy gave her. There are also several montages that transition into studio recordings (and sidenote, the soundtrack is so good because I’m a goddamn sucker for the added string parts). The most amusing one, and I’m sorry y’all, this sent me into a giggle fit, is the dead wife-esque montage where The Guy is singing to a laptop of home recordings of him and his ex – footage John Carney shot of his real life ex-girlfriend while they were together that he decided to repurpose after convincing her to shoot additional scenes with Glen to make it look like they was supposed to be part of the film. Really curious how that conversation initially went.
It’s almost baffling to think an Irish movie with such a low-key production and virtually unknown lead actors garnered as much buzz as it did. Without the acclaim it received at Sundance I might not have even have caught this on HBO in the states. Several years after Once‘s initial release, in 2012, before your mother left behind a yellow umbrella in a bar and married the most mid dude ever, she was in a stage musical adaptation of Once that won 7 Tony awards, along with a Grammy for Best Musical Theater Album. Paired with the Grammy and Academy Award Glen and Markéta won for Once back in 2007 they are literally an Emmy away from an EGOT, so… maybe they should compose theme music for a show, I dunno. If Nicholas Britell can win for ripping off Beethoven I think it’s a pretty achievable goal for The Swell Season.
John Carney, formally of Glen’s band The Frames, eventually left his own music career to pursue his passion for filmmaking. After writing the outline for Once based on his own history and some busking stories from Glen, John approached Glen to write the music and asked if he had any recommendations on casting for The Girl since they had already secured Cillian fucking Murphy for The Guy. John had worked with Cillian several years earlier in On The Edge and Zonad and additionally Cillian had agreed to front some money for the project. Can you imagine Cillian Murphy, fresh off of Batman Begins doing this film where he sings on a street corner and hits on a 17-year-old? Well, Cillian couldn’t for some mysterious and conflicting reasons. In some interviews with Glen he claims Cillian didn’t want to act opposite of an unknown Markéta, OR he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to sing Glen’s songs and John refused to drop them, OR Glen pretends he has no idea why Cillian bailed. John Carney stated it was because, as a director, he wanted to prioritize the musical performances over the acting so he pivoted to asking Glen instead, but regardless of whatever reason is the truth, Cillian backed out 10 days before shooting.
Carney originally wanted a 35-year-old Eastern European woman for the role of The Girl, but Glen knew Markéta because he was friends with her parents. He met her in the Czech Republic when she was around 12 or 13, noticed how skilled she was at playing piano and encouraged her to write her own music. Fast forward several years later, Markéta, then 17 and still in high school, read John Carney’s script at the behest of Glen and later met with the director. Because she and Glen already had a pretty established working relationship, recording “Falling Slowly” and a handful of other songs for The Swell Season album, John liked her for the role as she’d already proven she had the talent to carry the musical portion. And later with Cillian off the project, Glen stepped up to basically record what he stated as a monument to his and Markéta’s friendship.
The age gap feels a little sketchy on screen, but within the confines of the story it makes sense why The Guy and The Girl have an interest in each other. The Girl lost her father as a child to suicide, leaving a big open space for a father-type figure to fill. Having her own child incredibly young and being forced to marry made her assume responsibility most her age aren’t burdened with. She’s living with her mother trying to make ends meet in a foreign country while her husband is completely out of the picture. The Guy has moved back home with his father after the death of The Guy’s mother, sleeping on a twin bed in his childhood bedroom. The Guy and Girl are both working jobs they’re not incredibly enthused by and dream about careers in music. Socially they’re on pretty equal footing, The Guy even stealing his dad’s motorcycle for a day so they can go on a joy ride like they’re both freaking teenagers. But it doesn’t make the scene where The Guy asks the young Girl to sleep with him any less fucking cringy. Glen said he hated shooting that scene because it felt strange, and protested against any sort of kissing scenes for the same reason. But in the same breath he admits he and Markéta fell in love in real life on the set of this movie and I… ugh.
I’ve really struggled finishing this summary (I’ve been sitting on it for like 3 weeks now) because I hadn’t been sure what I wanted to say about Glen and Markéta’s personal relationship. Typically when I write these summaries I’m most excited by the research phase, learning about how the story was crafted, inspiration behind the songs written, how things were filmed, what kind of career the performers had afterward… the whole gambit. But digging into this story just made me feel sort of uncomfortable, leading me further and further away from the illusion. Glen will say the two fell in love on set, but they didn’t start their romantic relationship until Markéta was 19. The two of them were thrown together in this very positive and overwhelming global response to their very small movie, and in sharing this incredibly unique and isolating experience they found comfort in each other. They filmed a documentary of The Swell Season’s post-movie tour and instead of a film showcasing the rise of a scrappy indie band they instead chronicled all the reasons why Glen and Markéta probably shouldn’t have been together and their eventual breakup.
Markéta seemed to be uneasy with their sudden rise of fame, and rightfully so, she was a teenager on her first tour being recognized on the street and being asked to smile in impromptu pictures on days where she socially had nothing else to give. Glen, on the other hand, talks to his parents about his wish to be completely anonymous and how miserable he is being some degree of famous, but also revels in the attention from his fans in person. Glen and Markéta are constantly talking past each other, eventually realizing it would be easier to carry on as friends.
As an outsider, it’s very strange to hear how everyone in their circle, from the director of the movie, the band, Glen’s parents, entertainment reporters, you name it, were all cheerleading this relationship between a teenager and an almost 40-year-old, wishfully thinking if the two get married and have children both of their parents will be Oscar winners.
Markéta says of the end of their relationship, “Y’know, for a long time it was me adopting Glen’s ideas of the world and y’know, opinions on things. And then at one point I just kind of started going a little bit more my own way, and… like one thing was disagreeing maybe on some things or forming a different opinion. Or just kind of feeling y’know, I need to find my own way on this, I can’t just… I don’t want to just kind of just accept this, your way of looking at things or your way of doing things. I want to find my own way through this. And I want to be allowed to find my own way through things, y’know. I want that to be OK.”
And all I’m saying is there’s an assumed amount of control one has at my age over someone 20 years younger where, if you were seeking out a relationship where your partner parroted all your ideas because they haven’t fully transitioned from a child to an adult, it would probably be frustrating when the girl you’ve mentored since they were 13 suddenly started to break from the mold you were forcing them into to placate your own ego.
That said, I don’t know these people, and I wasn’t a first-hand witness to their relationship outside of their documentary. They’re friends today and in addition to working on their own projects, they still tour together as The Swell Season. Whatever hinkeyness I’m imagining is honestly my own hangup, but I share it here as context on why watching this movie makes me feel weirder as an adult than it did when I was 20 watching it for the first time. But even with the rose colored glasses removed, it doesn’t change the impact The Swell Season’s music has had on me.
At some point I need to stop overanalyzing and appreciate the film for what it is, and what it was in my life when I initially stumbled upon it in 2007 with puffy eyes and a wounded soul. While I’ve loved and lost several times since then, everything else is a quieter echo of the devastation my young heart suffered. Things mean less as I get older and so far, unlike Ophelia, I’ve realized I won’t actually die of heartbreak. Nobody sticks around forever and nothing is permanent, in an equally terrifying and exciting reality. There are points in my life when the people in it were what I needed at the time, and although they are no longer around now, I’m thankful for the experiences because they’ve allowed me to learn what behavior is helpful or harmful to my mental health. I’m battle tested and know I can handle the hardest experiences by myself, which is comforting since in the end that’s who we’re left with. And inexplicably songs from the Once soundtrack and others like “Let Go”, “The District Sleeps Alone Tonight”, “Parting Gift”, “I Know”,“That’s Just What You Are”, “Stupid” and “You & Jennifer” that were so intimately tied to certain people in my mind lose that thread over time. But even if the music no longer facilitates that highly specific emotional release I once needed, It’ll always be important. Foundational. Nostalgic even.
I empathize and relate to The Guy, because it’s incredibly easy to get stuck in a place after something traumatic happens to you, like the death of a loved one or the end of a relationship, and think, once I feel like I am enough, I can seek out love again. Once I have enough work experience, my health is better, the economy is better, things are settled with my family… only then can I do something reckless or pursue new opportunities. At least The Guy had The Girl as a catalyst to push him forward, and maybe too much is said of the main characters romantic/non-romantic relationship, but what I took from the film is the excuses to prevent you from moving forward will never run out. At some point you need to fleece a bank owner out of thousands of dollars, record an album in 48 hours, buy a piano for someone you’ve known for a week and run off to London to make up with your ex who boinked some other dude while you were together.
I mean, bad example, don’t do that… But do whatever your version of that is. Life is short. Seize the Carp.
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