Sam (Billy Crudup) is a lost man. A once successful advertising executive, he finds himself living on a boat, drunk more often than not, still reeling from his son’s death in a school shooting two years earlier. His ex-wife (Felicity Huffman) stops by one afternoon to drop off some of their son’s belongings, including music he recorded. Inspired by the songs, Sam performs them at an open mic night, where he meets Quentin (Anton Yelchin), an equally lost man who becomes so enamored with the music that he resorts to stalking Sam on his boat. The men soon form a band, Rudderless, that becomes a local hit, as Sam struggles to tell Quentin their songs were actually written by his dead son.
Rudderless could have been schmaltzy. It’s not—not by a long shot. Under the direction of first-timer William H. Macy, the film is quiet and restrained. There aren’t any traditional crowd-pleasing moments in Rudderless, yet the movie ends up a true crowd-pleaser. It examines how we deal with loss and grief and tragedy, and it does so with beautiful, haunting original songs composed by Simon Steadman and Charlton Pettus. (The titular band also features Ben Kweller.) Music ties the narrative together—Sam and Quentin, each unsure of their places in the world, are at their happiest on stage. The mic is a means of expression for the otherwise shy Quentin. For Sam, it’s therapy. Either way, being on stage is a necessity. They don’t sing because they want to, they sing because they have to.
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