Once is a quiet show about music, grief and the slow work of staying alive. It is also a show about Dublin, and it makes that city feel less like a backdrop and more like a character. The series, created by John Carney and based on his film of the same name, follows musician Johnny Flynn and writer Eva Green as they meet, fall in love, and try to make sense of their pasts through song. It is a small story, told with restraint, and it earns its emotional weight through patient direction and strong performances.
The premise is simple. Johnny is a busker who plays guitar and writes songs. Eva is a writer who has lost her husband and her daughter to cancer. They meet in a Dublin street, he performs, she listens, and the connection is immediate. The show tracks their relationship over a few months, moving between present-day Dublin and flashbacks to their younger selves in New York. What keeps the story from drifting into sentimentality is the specificity of its details: the songs Johnny writes, the rooms Eva lives in, the friends who surround them both.
Johnny and Eva
Johnny is a man who has built his identity around his music. He performs on the street, plays in bars, and carries a notebook full of lyrics. His charm is effortless, but his fear of commitment is real. Eva, meanwhile, is guarded and exhausted. She has spent years processing loss, and she is not sure she wants to open herself again. Their chemistry is the engine of the series, and it runs hot from the first scene to the last.
Green plays Eva with a weariness that feels earned rather than performed. She is sharp, funny, and brittle, and the show trusts her to carry scenes without needing to scream or sob. Flynn, as Johnny, brings warmth and intelligence to a character who could easily be a cliché. Their scenes together are the best of the series, full of tension and tenderness in equal measure.
The show does not rush their bond. It lets them talk, argue, play music, and sit in silence. That patience pays off in the later episodes, where the stakes of their relationship become clearer.
Music and the City
The songs in Once are not just background. They are the plot. Johnny writes a new song almost every episode, and each one reveals something about his feelings, his memories, or his fears. The show treats music as a form of therapy, a way to work through grief and move forward. This is a show about making art, and it understands that process intimately.
Dublin itself is a constant presence. The streets, the pubs, the parks, the light on the water — all of it feels lived-in and specific. The show moves between locations with ease, from a busy street corner to a quiet apartment balcony, and each setting feels distinct. The city is not a tourist postcard; it is a working town with its own rhythms.
The supporting cast helps ground the central romance. There is Johnny’s bandmate, who offers comic relief and honest advice. There is Eva’s friend, who provides a steadying presence. These characters are not plot devices. They are people with their own stories, and the show takes the time to let them breathe.
Structure and Pacing
The show is structured in two timelines, which can be disorienting at first. One strand follows Johnny and Eva in the present day. The other shows them as young lovers in New York. This split means the pacing is uneven. Some episodes are slow, others are fast, and the back-and-forth between timelines requires patience from the viewer.
But the structure pays off in the final stretch. The parallels between the two timelines become clear, and the show uses them to deepen its themes of memory, regret, and second chances. It is a clever device, and it is executed with care.
The show is also unafraid to let moments linger. A conversation can stretch across several minutes without a cut. A song can run its full length without interruption. This trust in the material is refreshing in an era of quick cuts and constant motion. It forces the viewer to sit with the emotion, which is often more effective than cutting around it.
Strengths and Weaknesses
- Strong lead performances from Green and Flynn
- Specific, evocative depiction of Dublin
- Use of music as narrative tool rather than filler
- Patient, deliberate pacing that rewards attention
- Two timelines that converge meaningfully in the finale
The show is not perfect. Some secondary characters feel underdeveloped, and the middle episodes drag slightly. The romantic arc is predictable, even if the execution is not. And the show’s ending leaves some questions unresolved, which may frustrate viewers looking for closure.
But these flaws are minor compared to what the show gets right. It is a rare example of a TV adaptation that improves on its source material. The film was beloved, but the series has room to expand its world, deepen its themes, and spend more time with its characters. It succeeds because it commits fully to its own rules: slow, intimate, and sincere.
Final Word
Once is a show about people finding each other in the midst of ruin. It is about the songs we write to heal, and the cities we walk through while doing it. It is not a show about spectacle or drama. It is a show about connection, and it handles that theme with uncommon grace.
The score is 8.6 out of 10.
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