One of the opening images of Nicole Riegel’s latest indie drama captures the intricacies behind playing the guitar as we watch self-titled artist Dandelion (KiKi Layne) tune-up for her next performance. Quickly, though, we get the sense that she hasn’t really performed before — at least, not to a crowd that hasn’t so casually talked over her beautiful voice.

The appropriately titled Dandelion, distributed by IFC Films, cleverly establishes itself as a film interested in the specific details of the music scene. Following a continued lack of success in Cincinnati’s music scene and with no support from her mother, Dandelion reluctantly moves to South Dakota for a music festival. There, she unexpectedly falls in love with Casey (Thomas Doherty), a married singer looking to break out of his band.

Taking a playbook out of A Star is Born’s structure, the film showcases two musicians from completely different walks of life, and their parallel arcs leave plenty to swoon over. Riegel intimately follows Dandelion and Casey as they write songs in wide-spanning valleys; their chemistry is undeniable. But as the film continues, its lack of focus on whose story is being sung leaves even the highest notes feeling subdued and general.

At its core, Dandelion is about a singer finding her voice as an artist and uncovering her place in the world. Yet the entire middle section of the film mostly discards Dandelion’s personal journey as the forced seeds of conflict abruptly push Dandelion and Casey apart. Instead of leaving crumbs planted from the very beginning of the relationship, Riegel’s screenplay opts to leave it all for two big reveals rather than a gradual escalation.

Beyond a question of perspective, the larger question that plagues this story remains: what is bringing Dandelion and Casey together aside from their love of music? The way their collaboration reflects the evolving stages of their relationship is entertaining and clever, but the lack of originality in their connection ironically leaves the tune stagnant.

Whereas the core relationship isn’t nearly as developed as it could be on paper, Lauren Guiteras’ landscape shots and use of wide lenses sweep us along with our two lovers and the nature surrounding them. One of the film’s most striking moments follows Dandelion clinging onto Casey’s back on a motorcycle ride along the South Dakota plains, which Guiteras tracks with velocity and feeling. The work of Terrence Malick and the best nature documentaries come to mind in these moments.

In addition to the film’s vivid cinematography, what makes Dandelion worth the price of admission is Layne’s electric lead performance. After seeing her breakout role in If Beale Street Could Talk (2018), Layne brings raw emotions through both her vocals and her character acting. Layne also does a magnificent job tracking Dandelion’s emotional state through how she performs her songs at different stages of the film. As Layne’s scene partner, Doherty is strong and understated, even with his underwritten character.

There’s a reason why generation after generation has been drawn to romance films like A Star is Born and even La La Land (2016): there is nothing quite like watching two people fall in love over their deep passions in life. It’s the kind of too-good-to-be-true connection we all crave on some level.

In the case of Dandelion, the opportunity to find a story of self-fulfillment could’ve set this film far apart from this subgenre. Through Dandelion’s journey as an artist in search of her voice, Riegel paints an honest portrait of what it means to pursue a career that so few people around you understand. Ironically enough, it’s the love story that takes up so much of the story that keeps us from fully witnessing Dandelion’s arc.

The music Dandelion and Casey create together is beautiful. If only the grandiose film around them realized whose story was being told from start to finish.

Review Courtesy of Matt Minton

Feature Image Credit to IFC Films via News-Herald