There’s often some misconstrued belief that at a certain age, we have to move past the things we loved when we were younger. We’re supposed to be careless, cool, and collected at all times. But The Ballad of Wallis Island looks beyond that with a beautifully wholesome movie that’s all about looking back fondly. It’s about accepting the changes and reconnecting with parts of the past that weren’t all that ugly. It’s about a grieving man listening to his favorite song performed live one more time. It’s about quiet legacies and the idea that our favorite things are our favorites for a reason. They linger, they stay, they keep something alive in us—hope.
Starring Tim Key, Carey Mulligan, Tom Basden, Sian Clifford, and Akemnji Ndifornyen, The Ballad of Wallis Island is a quiet film set in a gorgeously nostalgic remote island and one that’s meant to reunite a band for an intimate, single audience show. Lured to the island on relatively false pretenses, the intentions that Key’s Charles has in reuniting McGwyer & Mortimer isn’t malicious. In fact, they’re heartbreaking and a little raw when we learn the truth behind his invitation.
The older we get, the easier it becomes to long for parts of our pasts. It’s human, and it’s almost as heartbreaking as it is healing. The second Cat Stevens/Yusuf’s “The Wind” comes up in a movie or TV show, I immediately burst into tears. I don’t have a personal attachment to the song, but there’s something about its transformative ability to take me back and evoke a multitude of emotions at once. Now, for the songs that I do have personal connections to, they’re a completely different story—a distinct time capsule. For Charles, watching McGwyer & Mortimer perform is a way for him to heal from the grief that he lives with day and night. It’s a chance to have a piece of his loss back.
For Herb, performing again, even without Nell, is a chance to remember why he started writing music in the first place. The Ballad of Wallis Island is distinctly messy. There’s no neat little bow tying the story together at the end, but that realistic mess is exactly what makes it such a poignant story about subtle second chances. Charles can begin to move forward, and so can Herb. Clinging to the past isn’t always a good thing, but the narrative reminds viewers that sometimes it’s everything a person needs.
It’s also a showcase of how important it is to love something with all our hearts and all our minds. McGwyer & Mortimer may not have been Fleetwood Mac, but they’re the band Charles turns to when he needs the reminder that everything will be okay again. It’s the same thing with a book, a TV show, or a movie. Art is subjective, but no art is less than just because it’s solely beloved by one person. There’s still magic in every lyric and every chord, even though the relationship between the singing duo is fractured.
The emotions that once meant something are still the same. The meaning and the heart behind it all haven’t changed. It’s the music that endures long after the people have come and gone. It’s the words that can mean something different to every consumer, and that’s what the film beautifully reminds us of through charming humor and moments of crushingly subtle vulnerability. Full of lovely and warm performances, there’s no denying that The Ballad of Wallis Island is one of the most poignant films of the year.
First Featured Image Credit: ©Focus Features