The Ballad of Wallis Island

When folk musician Herb McGwyer (Tom Basden) arrives on the remote, sea-swept Wallis Island, he believes he’s coming to play an intimate gig for a few fans. In reality, the concert is for one man: Charles (Tim Key). Charles is a two-time lottery winner living on an English estate, and he’s a massive fan of Herb’s former folk duo: McGwyer & Mortimer. He owns their guitars, press clippings, and a few other items. As you’d expect, his fandom makes Herb queasy. Nevertheless, the growth of their awkward friendship massages the sweet pulse of this delightful film.   

The director James Griffith’s “The Ballad of Wallis Island” is a sublime, adorable comedy whose roots can be traced to a short Griffith made eighteen years ago. This elongated version, written by the film’s stars: Basden and Key—never gives a hint of its modest origin. The film bewitches you with its seemingly spontaneous humor, a cadre of original soulful folk tunes, and its adoration of the breathtaking surroundings.  

“The Ballad of Wallis Island” has an exceptional sense of place built on a verdant beauty and inspiring detailed world building. When Herb arrives at Wallis Island, he does so by motorboat. The island doesn’t have a dry dock, so Herb must wade through the cold sea to shore. Charles comes to greet him with a mini dry white eraser board, but he doesn’t provide much help. Wallis island doesn’t have hotels or stadiums or stores. In fact, it barely has people. So what’s billed to Herb as Wallis Lodge is actually Charles’ house. The one shop, owned by an adorable Amanda (Sian Clifford), never has anything in stock. While the script provides plenty of punchlines around these locales, DP G. Magni Ágústsson’s soft lensing isn’t punching down. He captures these lived-in spaces, whose paint is scraped and chipped by the sound of the sea, with the same love and care Charles feels for them. 

Herb, however, doesn’t feel the same adoration for what he surely thinks is a podunk town. Still, he thinks he can tough it out, if only to get paid. That is until he sees his retired bandmate and estranged girlfriend Nell (Carey Mulligan) arriving with her new husband Michael (Akemnji Ndifornyen) to perform too. See, Charles desperately wants to see the two together again, even if it reopens old wounds for the two musicians. 

While the setup of a folk musician meeting their overly eager fan bears some passing resemblance to the romantic dulcimer sounds of “Juliet Naked,” this film is actually more akin to “Planes, Trains and Automobiles.” Like John Candy’s Del Griffith, Charles is a well-intentioned oaf with an undimmed disposition. He says such awe-shuck lines like, “There’s a wowser for your trousers.” He also can’t read the room, asking Herb highly intimate questions about Herb’s failed relationship with Nell. Herb, who is the jaded Steve Martin of this film, only puts up with Charles because he needs the money promised by Charles. And like Del, unbeknownst to Herb, Charles is dealing with intense loss himself. As Charles, Key is the perfect balance between adorable and annoying, adding subtle grace notes of grief to an already affecting comedic performance. 

Where “Ballad of Wallis Island” slips up is pulling far too much focus from Charles to Herb. The latter might be Charles’ idol, but he’s a fairly uninteresting character. That isn’t necessarily a deal-breaker, most celebrities aren’t as fascinating as you’d assume. But Herb is neither charming nor tragic. He is a washed-up star trying to hang onto his quickly declining career. And unlike someone like Hugh Grant in “Music and Lyrics,” the vision of who Herb could be if he only grew up, doesn’t stir anticipation. Rather he is a far more intriguing figure when he is in the same space as Charles and Nell. 

Maybe that frustrating blankness is the key to Herb. The more time he spends with Nell, the most he considers romantically and creatively re-teaming with her. Indeed, it’s Nell who makes Herb a complete person, which is why his music career—the newest album is intimated as a series of desperate collaborations with other artists to remain relevant—lacks any identity. Similarly, Basden and Mulligan are dynamic together. Mulligan delivers a warmth that not only brings out the interiority of her character, a creative woman thinking of returning back to music, but also opens up Basden’s bare exterior. When together, they both feel like real people with a real past and an uncertain future.

Griffiths, smartly, doesn’t push his intimate romance to screwball territory. This film isn’t really about Herb and Nell. Nor is it really about Charles. Griffiths has made a delicate picture invested in the pain of moving on. Because no matter how hard Charles and Herb try, they can never relive the past. With “The Ballad of Wallis Island,” Griffith plays with that impossibility for a heartwarming truth in a major key.

This review was filed from the premiere at the Sundance Film Festival. It opens on March 28th, 2025.

Robert Daniels

Robert Daniels is Associate Editor at RogerEbert.com, and has written for the New York Times, the Los Angeles Times, Reverse Shot, Screen Daily, and the Criterion Collection. He has covered film festivals ranging from Cannes to Sundance to Toronto to the Berlinale and Locarno. He lives in Chicago, and is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association.

The Ballad of Wallis Island

Comedy
star rating star rating
99 minutes 2025

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