Miluju tebe

Rating: 9/10 (22 March 2016)

He is, like in many indie feature before him, a struggling musician with enough street smarts to know and play what the crowd wants to hear during the day, and then sing his heart out at night when no one listens and his voice is at its most sincere. His well-worn guitar has a great big hole in it, but that does not make the music any less from the heart - any musician whom has played and treasured an instrument through many periods of their lives will find this sigh familiar. And he is guarded too, so when he is asked a pointed question about past loves, he answers through half-mocking tunes because he knows he cannot commit emotionally to a fully sincere explanation. He hides behind the only thing he knows and can rely on.
She too, has fallen into the same routine. She has her own emotional baggage, but it isn't quite as evident, because she doesn't just shoulder her own burdens, but also those of her non-English speaking mother and young daughter. She cannot afford the time to be busking her heart out, but puts aside an hour each day to quietly play at the local piano shop. But does all this mean they are destined together? Certainly Hollywood has told us before, and even the tagline misleading suggests this (no doubt a producers request - Glen Hansard did well to adamantly go against an eventual romantic ending). And the viewer too, has been conditioned to want this. When she replies to him with a cryptic declaration of love, there are no subtitles for the Czech language, because it is a way for her to say those words without actually committing to them. By the end of the film, they both know that although there is a feeling there, the time and circumstance is not right. If you look closely you see two people who are not emotionally healthy and stable to end up together. They want and are headed in different directions; he to further his music career, her to mend her family.
With a shoestring budget, skeleton crew and amateur actors John Carney has delivered something rare and magical. The style takes a bit getting used to; certainly the way that passers by don't even acknowledge the hand-held cameras is disconcerting at first, and the lack of lighting setup is a altogether less glamorous look than we are used to. And yes, there are some cheesy moments. The first harmony comes together so perfectly that it does betray the story a little (and yes although harmonising is not as difficult as it looks it is what the scene suggests of the pairing). Then there is that moment at the bank where the small loans manager inexplicably reveals that he too had a musical calling, but has kept it hidden away inside. And then the predictable turn of opinion from Eamon as he scoffs over the phone at these 'oddballs', puts his feet up, and the then ragtag band proceed to play a near perfect rendition of the first track. Oh, but the best films are able to overlook these issues. When Hansard first hits that high note on the "time" of Falling Slowly, I got chills on my arms, and that isn't something of a logical or rational reaction at all. I knew at once from experience that it would be the lead song of the movie and that more renditions would be coming, but then when it comes it hits like a train and wow, what a story these lyrics tell.