"Once" is a musical that is not a musical. It's a movie filled with song, but with no soaring production numbers -- just two musicians whose lives intertwine as they work on their art. It's the story of a brokenhearted Irish busker who meets a kind immigrant pianist, and they talk about life, love, art, passion, creativity, sadness, desire, purpose, and striving as they tinker with songs together and form a friendship. It's wholly naturalistic, almost documentarian, and throughout he film you have no idea what the next scene will be. It feels like life: uncertain, tenuous, something that could break apart at any moment but is somehow held together with grace and hope. It's a film that shows that even in bad times, life goes on -- not in the sense that life merely continues but that you still have a shot at life. It's billed as a story of love, but it's more than that; it's a forgiveness story, self-forgiveness and otherwise. It's an anti-inertia movie. It's an anti-timidity movie. And the music is really good, too -- the soundtrack has been my companion ever since I saw the film.
"Lars and the Real Girl," on the other hand, does not feel realistic at all. It's an intensely choreographed, fable-esque take on an ideal world, one where people are patient and kind, thoughtful and respectful, giving space to a young man who is coping poorly with life and inventing an alternate reality for himself. As a viewer you can't help but think in terms of our reality: this guy needs therapy, this guy needs meds, this guy needs to be locked up. He's insane. And while I wouldn't recommend treating all mental health problems with simple love and understanding, the longer the story continues, the more that Lars is able to work through his fears and anxieties safe in the arms of a family and town that accept and embrace him without judgment, the more I long to live in that kind of world -- the more I want to create that kind of world. Wouldn't it be amazing to live in a world free of quick judgment and derisive scorn, that makes people afraid to show their real selves? Doesn't that start with me, with radical acceptance?The theme and tone of "Lars and the Real Girl" is anchored in the town church, where the reverend delivers the simple gospel message at the opening of the film: "In all the world, there are books and books and books of laws. But in all this world, there really is only one law. We need never ask, Lord, what should I do? Because the Lord has told us what to do: Love one another. That, my friends, is the one true law. Love is God in action." Without these small reminders of the church as center of community, the film could seem like a mere Twilight-Zone exercise in studying an alien culture. But with these words, and with these intentions, the film is saying: Here's what love in action might look like. Here's how far off base our culture is from a culture of love, in that this place seems foreign and imbalanced. Why haven't we embraced the message of Jesus as we ought? If "Once" pushes you to discover grace and forgiveness in life as it is, "Lars and the Real Girl" pushes you to consider what life might be.