A pleasant, if somewhat self-congratulatory, profile of the four studio musicians who seemingly played on every memorable singer-songwriter album of the ’70s. It also served, incidentally or not, as a promotional piece for their later-in-life tour, appearing at the Lobero on February 14. I don’t know enough to judge the musical chops the film showed, but the caliber and quantity of singers who praised their work–James Taylor, Carole King, Jackson Browne, Phil Collins, David Crosby, Linda Ronstadt, not to mention Warren Zevon, Joni Mitchell, Neil Young–speaks for itself. And when they went their individual ways they inspired Don Henley, Stevie Nicks, Keith Richards and even Jimmy Buffett. The resulting montage of song clips was nostalgia heaven, although it often left one wanting to hear more than the clip. The film itself was remarkably even-keeled and one-dimensional: no mention of families or private lives, any setbacks or disharmony (in the rock world!?), or musical disagreements. More than immediate, it was one happy family.

Hard to decide what bothered me more: the bizarre accents and clipped, unintelligible dialogue from Bradley Cooper, especially, and Carey Mulligan; the characters’, especially Cooper’s, obsessive smoking; or the lack of a plot. Rather than care for Lenny Bernstein, I couldn’t wait for this unpleasant person to get off the screen. Sarah Silverman, on the other hand, I liked. I admit to a personal dislike of gratuitous smoking in movies; here there was only one scene in which Cooper wasn’t lighting up: conducting his Mass in a cathedral. The rest of the time, even when conducting, a cigarette was in his mouth or his hand, to dramatic detriment not effect. A very unenjoyable two hours.

A happy-making bauble from John Carney, previously responsible for Once and Sing Street,” with which it shares a Dublin setting and charming, sensitive songs. Eve Hewson is the whole reason to watch, and it is a good one; she is brassy but not abrasive, pretty but real, and her three relationships–with her son, her ex-husband and her online guitar teacher–all bring rewards. The music, including Joni Mitchell singing “Both Sides Now,” is delightful; my only complaint was Netflix cutting off the final number in its “we-don’t-show-credits” zeal.