Here’s the thing, folks …
Honestly, there was a time when filmmakers lived to tell stories about p-e-o-p-l-e. For the most part, these various and asunder characters were relatable or – at the very least – recognizable to a great portion of the viewing audience; and whatever emotional highs and lows they endured resonated with watchers in ways that made us laugh, sometimes made us cry, and even – believe it or not – made us cheer. I couldn’t say when exactly but somewhere along the way these storytellers – for reasons I won’t pretend to understand – decided that enough was enough: instead of weaving magical theatrical spells about these various souls they invested more intensely in the stories themselves. In their eyes, the players didn’t matter as much as the journeys you put them through; and – in the course of this ‘reinvention’ – what slowly bubbled to the surface was glaring evidence of that age old adage that there are only seven stories.
Have you heard that one?
As it goes, someone sometime far smarter than I came up with the concept of there only being seven different stories that any storyteller could functional tell. (Google it, if you’re inclined: I won’t do any deep dive on the idea because that’s not the point I’m making.) Basically, the idea is that there are abstractly only a handful of variations on a theme; so scriptwriters, authors, and anyone with a pen figured that the people in these plays weren’t as important as the premise. (You know what there is an infinite number of? Characters.) Rather than expend serious effort on crafting men and women of interest, these faces were given second-class status to the stories they inhabited. While no one in the entertainment likes to admit it, the end result is that they’ve been delivering an endless number of rehashes, which is why nothing seems all that original any more.
It's precisely because of the existence of this phenomenon that I’ll praise a flick like The Ballad Of Wallis Island (2025) every opportunity I get. Unlike the usual drivel that studios and independents have been subjecting mankind to for decades, this picture damn near requires an investment on the part of the viewer in the c-h-a-r-a-c-t-e-r-s. They’ll make you laugh (again). They might even make you cry (again). They’ll warm your heart (the way good people were supposed to); and – you know what? – they might even make you occasionally cringe over their respective failures. Dare I say that we’ve all known someone that these personalities remind of us; and it’s this slowly creeping resonance that pulls you in, captures your attention, and maybe makes you – like it did me – wish for a time when we could go back and enjoy stories about people again as opposed to people participating in a story.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
Honestly, there was a time when filmmakers lived to tell stories about p-e-o-p-l-e. For the most part, these various and asunder characters were relatable or – at the very least – recognizable to a great portion of the viewing audience; and whatever emotional highs and lows they endured resonated with watchers in ways that made us laugh, sometimes made us cry, and even – believe it or not – made us cheer. I couldn’t say when exactly but somewhere along the way these storytellers – for reasons I won’t pretend to understand – decided that enough was enough: instead of weaving magical theatrical spells about these various souls they invested more intensely in the stories themselves. In their eyes, the players didn’t matter as much as the journeys you put them through; and – in the course of this ‘reinvention’ – what slowly bubbled to the surface was glaring evidence of that age old adage that there are only seven stories.
Have you heard that one?
As it goes, someone sometime far smarter than I came up with the concept of there only being seven different stories that any storyteller could functional tell. (Google it, if you’re inclined: I won’t do any deep dive on the idea because that’s not the point I’m making.) Basically, the idea is that there are abstractly only a handful of variations on a theme; so scriptwriters, authors, and anyone with a pen figured that the people in these plays weren’t as important as the premise. (You know what there is an infinite number of? Characters.) Rather than expend serious effort on crafting men and women of interest, these faces were given second-class status to the stories they inhabited. While no one in the entertainment likes to admit it, the end result is that they’ve been delivering an endless number of rehashes, which is why nothing seems all that original any more.
It's precisely because of the existence of this phenomenon that I’ll praise a flick like The Ballad Of Wallis Island (2025) every opportunity I get. Unlike the usual drivel that studios and independents have been subjecting mankind to for decades, this picture damn near requires an investment on the part of the viewer in the c-h-a-r-a-c-t-e-r-s. They’ll make you laugh (again). They might even make you cry (again). They’ll warm your heart (the way good people were supposed to); and – you know what? – they might even make you occasionally cringe over their respective failures. Dare I say that we’ve all known someone that these personalities remind of us; and it’s this slowly creeping resonance that pulls you in, captures your attention, and maybe makes you – like it did me – wish for a time when we could go back and enjoy stories about people again as opposed to people participating in a story.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An eccentric lottery winner who lives alone on a remote island tries to make his fantasies come true by getting his favorite musicians to perform at his home.”
I’ve an admitted fondness for films about knuckleheads mostly because I figure myself to be one; and Wallis Island features one of the best roles of the lovable doofus in years.
Charles Heath (played by Tim Key) won the national lottery not once but twice; and one might think that the resulting world tour he and his wife took after winning might have given him a bit more … erm … self-awareness. He isn’t a bad bloke by any stretch of the imagination, but he’s a bit curiously aloof, often speaking in either dated euphemisms or mildly inaccurate slang to express his personal adulation instead of an accurate stating of fact. He’s a goofball – once without an ounce of arrogance – and he’s chosen to live out his life on his terms, residing in a rather simple dwelling on an island populated by … well … let’s say “less than one hundred.” (That’ll make perfect sense once you see the flick.)
Five years after the unfortunate death of his wife, Charles decides he wants to do something grand to both celebrate her memory as well as the time they spent together; so he hatches the plan to get their favorite folk group – McGwyer Mortimer – back together for a last big concert. However, the truth is that Herb McGwyer (Tom Basden) and Nell Mortimer (Carey Mulligan) broke up under the strain of a failed partnership and drastically went their separate ways, meaning that a reunion will require a bit of helpful misdirection on the part of their host. Because Charles already suffers from the ability to kinda/sorta only say as little as is required, he’s a natural for this kind of matchmaking even though it obviously comes with sufficient risk. But he has the money to arrange for such a private affair, and since both McGwyer and Mortimer find themselves in need of cash it’s a match made in movie magic … or thereabouts.
The beauty of Island’s script is that it’s an exceedingly slim cast in which all of the lead players had some skin in the game. Key and Basden wrote the script, and they – along with Mulligan – are all credited here as executive producers. Clearly, it was a labor of love to translate their short film (of the same story) instead something much more intricate and involved; and the end result is as humorous as it is heartfelt with each player’s respective idiosyncrasies somehow bubbling to the surface and telling audiences something interesting about the human condition. We’re all imperfect; and – though we’re trying to make the best of these trips around the sun – we’re prone to mistakes. How we resolve them is as important as our messing up in the first place; and Island’s narrative reminds us always to never take ourselves so seriously that we miss out on simply living every moment to its fullest.
“An eccentric lottery winner who lives alone on a remote island tries to make his fantasies come true by getting his favorite musicians to perform at his home.”
I’ve an admitted fondness for films about knuckleheads mostly because I figure myself to be one; and Wallis Island features one of the best roles of the lovable doofus in years.
Charles Heath (played by Tim Key) won the national lottery not once but twice; and one might think that the resulting world tour he and his wife took after winning might have given him a bit more … erm … self-awareness. He isn’t a bad bloke by any stretch of the imagination, but he’s a bit curiously aloof, often speaking in either dated euphemisms or mildly inaccurate slang to express his personal adulation instead of an accurate stating of fact. He’s a goofball – once without an ounce of arrogance – and he’s chosen to live out his life on his terms, residing in a rather simple dwelling on an island populated by … well … let’s say “less than one hundred.” (That’ll make perfect sense once you see the flick.)
Five years after the unfortunate death of his wife, Charles decides he wants to do something grand to both celebrate her memory as well as the time they spent together; so he hatches the plan to get their favorite folk group – McGwyer Mortimer – back together for a last big concert. However, the truth is that Herb McGwyer (Tom Basden) and Nell Mortimer (Carey Mulligan) broke up under the strain of a failed partnership and drastically went their separate ways, meaning that a reunion will require a bit of helpful misdirection on the part of their host. Because Charles already suffers from the ability to kinda/sorta only say as little as is required, he’s a natural for this kind of matchmaking even though it obviously comes with sufficient risk. But he has the money to arrange for such a private affair, and since both McGwyer and Mortimer find themselves in need of cash it’s a match made in movie magic … or thereabouts.
The beauty of Island’s script is that it’s an exceedingly slim cast in which all of the lead players had some skin in the game. Key and Basden wrote the script, and they – along with Mulligan – are all credited here as executive producers. Clearly, it was a labor of love to translate their short film (of the same story) instead something much more intricate and involved; and the end result is as humorous as it is heartfelt with each player’s respective idiosyncrasies somehow bubbling to the surface and telling audiences something interesting about the human condition. We’re all imperfect; and – though we’re trying to make the best of these trips around the sun – we’re prone to mistakes. How we resolve them is as important as our messing up in the first place; and Island’s narrative reminds us always to never take ourselves so seriously that we miss out on simply living every moment to its fullest.
Additionally, this might be one of the better ensembles I’ve had the good fortune to watch because the principles were so invested. As they’ve obviously spent a great deal of time with these characters, the players should be commended for bringing them to life so vividly in moments big and small. Basden is wonderfully dour and equally self-absorbed in ways too many to count, and Mulligan projects the kind of curious spontaneity we’re probably all imbued with as children but somehow lose in the process of growing up. Key is the catalyst pushing these two back together – at least, so far as that can happen at this point in their lives – and he provides an incredible number of laughs with his verbal and behavioral quirks which likely remind each of us of a time when we likely did something as unintentionally inane.
The result? It’s all magic. Sheer movie magic. And it’s the likes of which I wish we saw more of these days.
The Ballad Of Wallis Island (2025) was produced by Focus Features, Baby Cow Productions, Moxie Pictures, and BBC Studios. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Allied Vaughn. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights and sounds to be exceptional from start to finish: there are a few sequences wherein the audio seemed a bit muddled, but it could be just my untrained ear handling a mild accent here and there. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Alas, not a one. A big, big miss, if you ask me. I would’ve loved to spend more time in this universe … but I did purchase the soundtrack from iTunes, so there’s that.
Highest Recommendation Possible.
For clarity’s sake, this isn’t a genre picture in any regard; and, yet, I’ll easily chalk up The Ballad Of Wallis Island as one of my personal favorites for 2025 thus far. It’s funny. It’s touching. It’s moving. It’s relatable. It reminds me of what drew me to watching films about characters in the first place, what with its spot on and nuanced performances across the board along with a story that never – NEVER – surpasses the importance of understanding the people caught up in this delicate web called life. Thankfully, it chucks the formulaic ending out the window but still manages to deliver a message that happiness remains elusive only if you’re looking for it in the wrong place.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Allied Vaughn provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Ballad Of Wallis Island (2025) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
The result? It’s all magic. Sheer movie magic. And it’s the likes of which I wish we saw more of these days.
The Ballad Of Wallis Island (2025) was produced by Focus Features, Baby Cow Productions, Moxie Pictures, and BBC Studios. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Allied Vaughn. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights and sounds to be exceptional from start to finish: there are a few sequences wherein the audio seemed a bit muddled, but it could be just my untrained ear handling a mild accent here and there. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Alas, not a one. A big, big miss, if you ask me. I would’ve loved to spend more time in this universe … but I did purchase the soundtrack from iTunes, so there’s that.
Highest Recommendation Possible.
For clarity’s sake, this isn’t a genre picture in any regard; and, yet, I’ll easily chalk up The Ballad Of Wallis Island as one of my personal favorites for 2025 thus far. It’s funny. It’s touching. It’s moving. It’s relatable. It reminds me of what drew me to watching films about characters in the first place, what with its spot on and nuanced performances across the board along with a story that never – NEVER – surpasses the importance of understanding the people caught up in this delicate web called life. Thankfully, it chucks the formulaic ending out the window but still manages to deliver a message that happiness remains elusive only if you’re looking for it in the wrong place.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Allied Vaughn provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Ballad Of Wallis Island (2025) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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