THE BALLAD OF WALLIS ISLAND Review: Delightful Oddball Musical Drama

Win the national lottery once and you’d be considered one of the luckiest people currently alive.

 

Win the national lottery twice and you’d be firmly in a reality-adjacent world where the whimsical isn’t just an abstract idea, but the guiding principle underlying the central premise in The Ballad of Wallis Island, an utterly delightful comedy-drama co-written by — and co-starring two members in good standing of the British comedy troupe, the Cowards — Tom Basden and Tim Key, and directed by James Griffiths (Bad Sisters, Stumptown, A Million Little Things).

 

When we first meet Charles Heath (Key), the aforementioned two-time national lottery award winner, he’s comfortably ensconced on the island of the title, a slightly dilapidated mansion up on a hill, and eagerly awaiting the arrival of Herb McGwyer (Basden), one-half of the once-popular, long-defunct McGwyer-Mortimer group, a folk-rock duo. Heath practically lives his life around the duo’s releases, listening to them on vinyl, the first sign among many of Heath’s singular obsession with music both generally and in particular, the McGwyer-Mortimer duo. 

 

In exchange for McGwyer’s invaluable time and a performance for an audience of one, Heath, the latter will give McGwyer a cool half a million pounds. An extravagance by any definition, not to mention credibility-stretching, except for its frequent real-world occurrences (i.e., celebrities giving private performances for suitcases full of cash), McGwyer’s arrival also foregrounds Heath’s mental state: He’s perpetually stuck in a nostalgia trap, obsessively revisiting earlier, happier times while forgetting to live in the moment and fulfilling his emotional needs through other, healthier means.  

 

For all of McGwyer’s willingness to perform for the eccentric Heath on the isolated island (the cash will fund a new record), he’s still partly caught in a nostalgia trap of his own: The long unresolved relationship with his former professional and romantic partner, Nell Mortimer (Carey Mulligan). Their relationship ended on acrimonious terms, Mortimer feeling betrayed for McGwyer’s decision to record a solo album without her knowledge; McGwyer for Mortimer’s seemingly abrupt decision to end their relationship and relocate to the United States.

 

Where both McGwyer and Heath live, at least partly, in the past, Heath for reasons that only become clear as The Ballad of Wallis Island moves forward to their joint performance (it won’t be spoiled here), McGwyer because he hasn’t done the work to resolve whatever residual feelings or emotions he had about Mortimer personally or professionally, Mortimer emerges as the more centered, more balanced member of the temporary trio. 

 

The Ballad of Wallis Island narratively stumbles once or twice, especially when Michael’s presence feels both out of place and an obstacle to the film’s underlying themes, specifically doing the hard work reconciling yourself to the past (good, bad, and awful). It more than makes up for any stumbles, though, through the pairing of Heath, an overly verbose, neurotic character (much is made of Heath’s inability to quietly absorb the island’s windswept beauty) and McGwyer, short-tempered, easily put out, uncomfortable in his own skin and his life choices, including his repeated attempts to remain relevant in the marketplace through soul-damaging “collabs” with contemporary pop artists.

 

Throughout, it’s Key and Basden’s friction-filled chemistry, elevated by dialogue by turns profound and hilarious, and Griffiths’s unobtrusive direction that makes The Ballad of Wallis Island a must-watch, especially for fans of music-oriented comedy-dramas. Add to that Mulligan’s pitch-perfect performance as Mortimer and a handful of folk-rock songs composed and sung (in part) by Basden himself and The Ballad of Wallis Island becomes something altogether more, emotionally moving entertainment and in itself, a minor miracle.