There are few actors working today more naturally suited for the dramedy space than Paul Rudd. Whether he is playing lovable everymen, emotionally stunted fathers, or charming underachievers, Rudd has a way of making characters instantly approachable without sacrificing emotional depth. “Power Ballad,” the latest musical dramedy from John Carney, once again reminds audiences why Rudd remains one of the most reliable screen presences in modern comedy drama.
Written and directed by Carney, whose previous films “Once,” “Begin Again,” “Sing Street,” and “Flora and Son” have all explored the emotional pull of music and memory, “Power Ballad” stars Rudd as Rick Power, a former aspiring rock musician now living in Dublin and fronting a wedding band years after his own dreams of stardom faded away. Nick Jonas co-stars as Danny Wilson, a fading former boy band sensation struggling to reinvent himself as a serious solo artist. The ensemble includes Peter McDonald as Rick’s bandmate Sandy, Marcella Plunkett as his wife Rachel, Havana Rose Liu as Danny’s girlfriend Marcia, Jack Reynor as Danny’s manager Mac, and Beth Fallon as Rick’s daughter Aja. The film opens in select theaters May 29 before expanding nationwide June 5.
The setup is deceptively simple. Rick and Danny connect briefly during a late-night jam session after a wedding gig, bonding over music and a shared sense that something in their careers never quite landed the way it should have. That moment ends up meaning very different things to each of them. Danny takes one of Rick’s songs and turns it into a massive hit, reigniting his career. Rick is left trying to convince anyone who will listen that the song was his to begin with.
What follows is not quite a revenge story and not quite a redemption story either. It’s something more uncomfortable than that. Carney uses the conflict to dig into creative ownership, unrealized ambition, and the uneasy question of whether talent alone is ever enough. As the film itself suggests, a song isn’t just about who wrote it, but who can bring it to life in a way that connects.
Where “Power Ballad” really lands is in its smaller, more personal moments. Beneath the music industry premise, this is ultimately a father-daughter story. Rick’s relationship with Aja gives the film its emotional backbone, grounding his frustration in something real. There’s a quiet understanding between them, and it works. That said, I do think the film leaves a little on the table here. One or two additional scenes could have made that relationship hit even harder, especially given how much it informs Rick’s sense of purpose.
The humor is another strength. Much of it comes from Rudd’s chemistry with Peter McDonald, who plays Sandy, Rick’s long time bandmate and friend. Their dynamic feels natural without trying too hard, capturing the rhythm of two guys who have spent years navigating the same routines and disappointments together. Some of the film’s best moments are just the two of them talking, joking, or playing music.
Rudd, as expected, is excellent. He’s entirely believable as a musician, which is crucial here. The performance doesn’t rely on big emotional swings. Instead, it’s built on smaller beats, the kind that slowly reveal how much Rick has been carrying around for years. You buy that he once had something real, and more importantly, that he still might.
Jonas also delivers one of his more interesting performances. Danny could have easily been played as a shallow industry type, but Jonas brings enough hesitation and self-awareness to keep him grounded. There’s also a clear overlap between the character and Jonas’ own career, and that familiarity comes through. You get the sense that he understands exactly what it feels like to be trying to redefine yourself in public.
If the film has one clear weakness, it’s the song itself. “How to Write a Song” is meant to be the emotional and narrative engine of the entire story. It’s the reason everything happens. And while it’s good, it never quite feels like the kind of song that would take over the world overnight.
That gap matters. The film asks you to believe this song changes everything, and it just doesn’t quite get there. It’s not a bad song by any means, but it doesn’t hit at the level the story needs. That said, music is subjective, and it wouldn’t be surprising if audiences connect with it more than I did, especially given Jonas’ presence.
What Carney continues to do well, though, is frame music as something bigger than success. Here, the song means different things to different people. For Rick, it’s tied to his daughter and a version of himself he never fully let go of. For Danny, it becomes a way back into relevance. That contrast is where the film is most interesting, even if it doesn’t always dig as deep into it as it could.
Visually, the film does a nice job contrasting Rick’s life in Dublin, Ireland with Danny’s world in Los Angeles. It’s not flashy, but it helps underline the gap between them, not just in career, but in how they see themselves.
The ending, without getting into specifics, avoids the most obvious route. It lands in a place that feels honest to the characters, even if it’s a bit quieter than some audiences might expect. I appreciated that. It fits the film’s overall perspective that success isn’t always about getting what you think you want.
Like many of Carney’s films, “Power Ballad” is less interested in fame itself than in the people chasing it. It’s about what happens when those dreams don’t quite play out, and what you choose to hold onto anyway.
It won’t become a defining classic of the genre, and it doesn’t quite reach the highs of Carney’s best work. But anchored by another strong performance from Paul Rudd, it’s still a thoughtful, funny, and at times surprisingly moving film about music, family, and the complicated ways we measure our own worth.
Final Grade: B