In the tradition of The Commitments and Once, Joshua Todd’s 2016 short film Painkiller charts the story of a group of ne’er do wells and misfits who overcome their baggage to make music. At the beginning of Painkiller, the teenaged Rob, a heavy metal enthusiast with a serious physical disability, gets fired by his band mates, who claim that his disability (and fear of performance) makes him unreliable. He mops for while but is dragged out of his morass by his best friend Cass, a young woman that he used to play music with and who also seems a bit isolated from the metal scene. They hook up with an awkward, laconic jazz drummer to form their own metal band, Painkiller. Before he can perform, however, Rob has to deal with his own fears about his pain, disability, and ability to perform.

Painkiller is charming and very tightly paced, and it manages to keep a lot of plot moving at a rapid pace within a short period of time. In part, of course, it’s in part because Rob, Cass, and Mickey are common tropes, mal-adepts who are able to overcome stereotypes at play in the music world. Moreover, the characters are drawn from a strong that Anglo and Irish traditions of the poor kid who makes good, if only for an instant. In this way, the dialogues flow, the characters’ personal growth seems easy and natural, and the music matches the film’s quick pace. The young actors are also well cast; Rob (Mitch Wood) lets us feel for his personal struggles to be an entirely normal kid.

Moreover, the sparse photography and elegant camerawork give Painkiller a kind of sophisticated filmmaking style. Todd never seems to let the camera get in the way of his characters. The film’s backdrops–middle and working-class homes, janky record stores, and low-rent clubs— give us a sense of an environment where the joy of music is the only way to transcend the banalities (and the pains) of everyday life.

While the story isn’t at all new, unusual, or surprising, Painkiller nonetheless draws from a wonderful generic traditional and does it justice. In the film, music helps us overcome our personal challenges, connects disparate peoples, and proves that joy can emerge in unusual places and odd outlets. And, although ostensibly heavy metal and outward joy seem dichotomous, Painkiller proves that this weird juxtaposition is actually a really good fit.