Like any independent film with a quirky and irreverent love story, “Once” by writer-director John Carney, contains many of the usual elements: sullen, earnest and down-beat guy meets adorable and quirky girl, who does charmingly quirky and irreverent things (in this case, it’s her Czech accent and her pension for dragging a vacuum cleaner down the streets of Dublin like a cocker-spaniel), he falls for her, she kind of likes him, but of course things get in the way. But, unlike the usual fair, “Once” is a musical.

We’re not talking about a “West Side Story” or “Oklahoma” kind of musical. “Once” gives us a movie musical for the muted-indie-acoustic-folk crowd. Glen Hansard stars as the heartbroken singer-songwriter playing on the streets of Dublin trying to get by on his music, but has to work in his father’s vacuum repair shop. When not moonlighting as an actor, Hansard is the front man for an Irish rock band The Frames; a band for which Carney once played bass. Czech vocalist Markéta Irglová joins Hansard as the aforementioned girl who sells roses on the street and plays piano. The two meet and begin talking when the girl’s Hoover needs some fixing. She is taken by his evocative guitar playing. He soon learns that she plays piano and writes her own songs. And before you can say C major, they are making beautiful music together.

Hansard and Irglová do indeed sound nice together, both on and off the screen. In fact, many of the songs from “Once” can be found on Hansard’s solo album “The Swell Season” on which the two collaborated. In this light, it’s hard not to see the film as a sort of documentary of their real story (they are dating in real life as well). Carney’s camera work foregrounds the realism of the film. He shoots many scenes with a hand-held camera creating an almost cinema verite quality. In the opening shot, a junkie relieves himself in an alley only a few feet from Hansard singing his heart out to a gray and gritty Dublin avenue. The whole film walks a strange line between its subdued and mellow realism and the theatricality of a musical. It only really deviates from real life when Hansard and Irglová burst into full song in the back of a bus or in the middle of a piano shop.

This of course is a convention of musicals; that characters sing irrationally and often. In one scene, Irglová goes into a convenience store in the middle of the night to buy batteries so she can listen to Hansard’s demo on her Walkman. As she walks down the street in her pajamas and slippers she sings sweetly as she thinks of lyrics to his tunes. It’s somewhat unrealistic and definitely theatrical, but the whole thing is done so effortlessly that it has a haunting, transcendental effect. Her gentle crooning of “If You Want Me” is somehow as natural as if she humming privately to herself. In another notable scene, Irglová and Hansgard go to a party full of musicians in which everyone shares a song. Carney’s direction is so gentle and rooted in realism that the scene lacks any pretense or contrivance. People sing with such ease in “Once,” that it suggests our own lives could be a bit more musical.

“Once” does fall victim to many of the clichés of quirky love stories. Often its suffers from its own mellowness and noticably lacks dramatic tension. Yet, when Irglová and Hansgard get together and play, they are as rousing and uplifting as a huge Busby Berkeley number, but in their own quiet, bittersweet and acoustic way.

*4/5 stars*