The Swell Season

First, full disclosure. I am friends with two of the filmmakers--Chris Dapkins and Carlo Mirabella-Davis--and their parents. In fact, Chris Dapkins grew up a mile and a half down the road, which in our part of rural upstate New York made us the equivalent of next-door neighbors.

So I was prepared to like The Swell Season. But to be stunned by it?

Though I am no longer a fan of pop music, I sat absolutely riveted through every frame of this extraordinary story of two performers on tour in public and private. The choice of black and white photography was just right, and the filmmakers let their narrative unfold in a straightforward fashion without adornment or visual gimmicks.

I loved the music by Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, and ached at the sad poignancy of their gradual breakup. Their doomed romance took me back to that brief but legendary love affair between Joan Baez and Bob Dylan in those younger days in the 1960s when I cared deeply about such public matters of the heart.

Ron Bailey, author and retired journalist