02/06/25

Cameo Cinema, Edinburgh

Herb McGwyer (Tom Basden) is a musician, once a member of an influential folk duo, now reduced to forging a living in the independent music sector. He needs funds to finance the new ‘poppier’ album he’s been working on, so he’s delighted (and somewhat bewildered) when he’s approached to perform a concert on a remote island somewhere off the coast of Pembrokeshire.

The fee? A cool half a million quid.

At his manager’s urging, Herb is soon on the island and being greeted by his benefactor, Charles Heath (Tim Key), a hapless but likeable oddball who seems incapable of talking without throwing in a string of terrible puns and vaguely insulting observations. When Herb asks him some perfectly reasonable questions: “Where’s the stage? How many people will be attending the performance? Why is the fee being paid in cash?” Charles offers little in the way of explanation, other than to mention that McGwyer and Mortimer – the aforementioned folk duo – were his wife’s all-time-favourite musicians. The audience, he announces, will be “less than a hundred.”

And then another boat arrives, bringing Nell Mortimer (Carey Mulligan) to Wallis Island. Charles, it turns out, has also hired her to perform. To say that the reunion is awkward would be something of an understatement. Back in the day, Herb and Nell were partners in more than just the musical sense and Herb still nurtures strong feelings for her. The fact that she has brought her new squeeze, Michael (Akemnji Ndifornyen), along for the trip seems a recipe for disaster…

Written by Basden and Key (and developed from a short film they made back in 2007), The Ballad of Wallis Island is a warm, gentle hug of a film, one that takes a long look at the subject of relationships and the many ways in which memories can still affect people long after an initial attraction has gone – and perhaps more significantly, it centres on the importance of moving forward.

Basden does a great job of conveying the insecurity of an aging performer struggling to hang on to his career in a musical climate that has changed out of all proportion. The beautifully-judged exchanges between Herb and Charles are delightfully and consistently funny, while the songs (also written by Basden) are strong enough to convince me that McGwyer and Mortimer really could have secured an ardent following, particularly when Mulligan supplies some sweet harmonies to Basden’s plaintive lead vocals. James Griffiths handles the direction with assurance.

It will be a stern soul indeed that doesn’t warm to this sweet, charming and gently affecting film. If it drops anchor at a cinema near you, I’d urge you to see it.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

drops anchor