Review of the charming new film comedy with Tim Key, Tom Basden and Carey Mulligan

Beautifully observed and effortlessly charming, The Ballad of Wallis Island is a melodic, delicately meditative comedy about love and loss that could have been insufferably twee, and yet perhaps represents the high water mark of Tim Key's career.

Based on a 2007 Bafta-nominated short that Key and his long-time collaborator Tom Basden wrote and starred in, about an eccentric millionaire who pays for a private concert by his favourite musician, the film is once again directed by James Griffiths.

Getting the band back together almost two decades later and adding bona fide movie star Carey Mulligan proves inspired, as the intervening years have added a careworn poignancy and competing heart-pulls that weren't there in the original.

Basden plays Herb McGwyer, a precious and self-absorbed alt-folk singer-songwriter, harking back to that genre's Mumford & Sons-led heyday, now unconvincingly mimicking pop trends in a desperate bid to stay relevant.

Literally washed up on the remote Wallis Island, he's greeted by the starstruck but effusive Charles (Key), who, in lieu of a hotel, takes the equal parts confused and drenched Herb back to his Wallis Lodge home.

Through Charles's jovial good humour and nervous garrulousness in the face of his reticent surliness, Herb slowly comes to understand that Charles has used a huge chunk of his serendipitously acquired fortune to persuade the singer to perform on the beach he's just trudged up. For an audience of Charles alone.

Somewhat unsettled by this, the malfunction of his phone and his inability to flee the island, Herb is further destabilised the next morning when the boat drops off another guest, Nell Mortimer (Mulligan), his erstwhile musical and romantic partner. Although Nell has long since moved on, both from performing and Herb, Charles wants them to reunite, if only musically, despite Herb's vociferous reluctance.

Further complicating this awkward reunion is Nell's American husband, Michael (Akemnji Ndifornyen), who's turned up with her. Meanwhile, Charles's own troubled backstory emerges, a late wife whose memory still dictates his existence. But also barely concealed feelings for local shopkeeper Amanda (Sian Clifford), which he can't properly bring himself to act upon.

Little about the plot feels especially novel and not hazily reminiscent of something else. And there's some exceptionally clunky development when Michael is temporarily removed from the tale to go off on a birdwatching trip. 

Yet the rekindling of McGwyer and Mortimer's relationship, Nell's reawakened creativity and the softening of Herb's peevishness in the company of the buffoonish but endlessly well-meaning Charles unfolds with masterful pacing, as the viewer aligns with him in simply enjoying the leisurely process of seeing his heroes reborn and rejuvenated before his eyes.

In a fuller expression of his often inexplicably funny stage persona, Key infuses Charles with an irrepressible need to fill each and every silence with babbling conversation and straining puns, keeping things light-hearted to stave off his underlying sadness. From initially being the besotted fan, unable to believe his good fortune, he becomes the soulful anchor for the musicians' emotional eddies. That's alongside the original songs that Basden has composed for the film, which speak with a candour that the characters invariably can't bring themselves to.

Charles is given precious few moments to vent. But in Key's layered performance and one especially vigorous game of swingball, you can intuit the maelstrom of feelings beneath the surface, his yearning for human connection.

Griffiths finds a tender compromise between silliness and sentimentality, avoiding any obvious resolutions and pulling back from anything too cloying, while giving pathos its moment every now and then. This is supplemented by some understated but gorgeous scenery shots and a script from Key and Basden that is frequently hilarious, the laughs springing organically from the mutual entrapment of these conflicted lost souls, and some exquisite running and visual gags.

Alongside the star power that unquestionably helped to get the film made, Mulligan brings a steadying, harmonising presence to the already established creative trio, elevating the standout scenes to something richer and more resounding than mere bromance and odd couple, cringe comedy. 

That's in marked contrast to Amanda, unfortunately, who is somewhat underwritten. Regardless, Clifford innocently delivers her one-liners with aplomb, just one more character who is loveable in their struggles with love.

The isolated, coastal setting renders The Ballad Of Wallis Island superficially reminiscent of Bill Forsyth's Local Hero. And in its wit, warmth and gentle, unforced idiosyncrasy, it deserves to be held in the same high regard.

• The Ballad of Wallis Island is released on Friday, certificate 12

Review date: 27 May 2025
Reviewed by: Jay Richardson