Movie Review: "Begin Again" (John Carney, 2014)

OUT OF TUNE by Bennett Campbell Ferguson

Above: Keira Knightley and Mark Ruffalo star in the latest film from the director of "Once"

There is a moment in “Begin Again” when the talented songwriter Greta (Keira Knightley) berates her fame-hungry former lover Dave (Adam Levine), disdainfully calling him a practitioner of “stadium pop.”  Why, she wonders, does he care about what other people think?  Why can’t he just create something authentic?

            It’s a good question, and I wish that the film’s writer-director, John Carney, had answered it.  But though Mr. Carney is a master of the modern musical (as evidenced by his 2007 romance “Once”), “Begin Again” strikes notes as painfully false as the ones Dave sings in high, whiny voice.  It’s not just that the movie is mechanical and forced (many respectable movies are that and still charming); it’s that it’s hollow, irritating, and ingratiating—an art house product that’s slicker and faker than many bombastic blockbusters.

            Also, “Begin Again” is strikingly unenjoyable.  After Greta first sings (magnificently, onstage in a halo of purple light), we meet Dan (Mark Ruffalo), an annoying music producer looking for a comeback.  To Dan, Greta—tender, sweet, and smart—looks like a chance for redemption.  So even though he’s already inebriated, he invites her to talk career prospects and down a beer with him (after “Obvious Child,” “Begin Again” is the second 2014 movie to display a creepily blasé attitude towards alcoholism).

            Alas, not everyone sees in Greta what Dan does.  But he persists and together, they record an album on the streets of New York, rushing from roof top and train station, making music wherever they can.  It’s a rejuvenating enterprise, one that soothes Greta’s broken heart (when the film begins, Dave has dumped her for a glamorous executive) and even gives Dan a chance to reconnect with his estranged daughter Violet (Hailee Steinfeld), who inspires everyone with her awkward and ingenious guitar riffs.

            I know what you’re thinking—how could anyone not be charmed by such a sweet story?  After all, “Begin Again” has all the ingredients of a crowd-pleaser, from a good-hearted bad boy in Dan to a tough, broken-hearted gal in Greta.  But for me, emotional entertainment demands more than good ingredients; it requires a filmmaker with the skill to mix them together with eloquence, thoughtfulness, and just enough naturalism. 

Considering the authenticity of “Once” (that film’s dialogue was so relaxed and human that it felt improvised), it’s amazing that nothing about “Begin Again” feels genuine.  Just listen when Dan proposes the “streets of New York” album concept to Greta.  It’s meant to be a “eureka!” moment, but Dan’s “aha” sounds stunningly wooden—so much that you feel as if he’s suggesting the idea only to set the plot in motion.

            And there are other problems looming.  Dan and Greta are both, we are told, wounded souls.  Yet there’s no truth in their anguish.  Never for an instant does either character display an ounce of real feeling; instead, they just blather articulately about their problems (“You don’t know anything about me!” Dan bawls), as only characters in a disingenuous Hollywood romance can.

            That said, “Begin Again” is not a traditional romance.  The chemistry between Dan and Greta is obvious, but they’re both a mess; neither is in a position to begin a new relationship.  Thus, we get a wrenching moment at the end of the movie when they hug, feeling deeply for each other but knowing that, now that their record is complete, they’ll have to part ways.

            I felt something during that scene.  I know what it’s like to feel drawn to someone yet know you can’t be with them; it’s tender and it’s agonizing.  And for all its faults, “Begin Again” finds some meaning in its story of unconsummated musicians in love.  As in “Once,” making music together is their reward; that may not be enough, but that’s why their experiences together are so transcendent.

            But one moving moment does not a moving film make.  And for a movie about the art of making soulful music, “Begin Again” feels astoundingly artificial.  As actors, Mr. Ruffalo and Ms. Knightley are peerless; as actors playing musicians, they seem oddly awkward and flat.  That’s why it’s comparatively exhilarating whenever Dave comes onscreen.  Yes, he’s insufferably obnoxious (his unctuous personality makes even his grotesque beard seem charming), but at least he’s played by Adam Levine, an actual member of an actual band (Maroon 5).

            That, I think, was what made “Once” so wonderful.  It didn’t star actors; it starred Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, two musicians who inhabited their characters with earthly grace.  In a way, they were portraying versions of themselves, whereas in “Begin Again,” Mr. Ruffalo and Ms. Knightley simply play at being musicians, grasping for a tuneful truth that remains ever out of reach.