Songs from the Circle at the Nashville Film Festival

As a musician living and playing in Nashville, I had never given the Grand Ole Opry a second's notice. I figured it was an overblown, overhyped place, more tourist stop than living institution. My opinions were based on nothing more than the ads that promoted it as such in my social media feed and on billboards along the highway. So when I sat down for Songs from the Circle at the Nashville Film Festival, I knew almost nothing about the Opry going in.

It turns out I was in good company. In the Q&A afterward, director David Freid admitted he came into the project knowing very little about the Opry himself, and argued that fresh eyes are an advantage when you're trying to tell a story to a broader audience. Watching the film, I could see exactly that, as it held your hand throughout to really tell the story of the Opry.

Songs from the Circle follows the Opry as it marks its 100th anniversary by crossing the Atlantic for the first time. From rehearsal rooms at Abbey Road to a sold-out show at London's Royal Albert Hall on September 26, 2025, this journey has a star-studded cast, as you'd expect of such a prestigious place. Luke Combs, Darius Rucker, Carly Pearce, Ashley McBryde, Marty Stuart, and special guests Breabach and Mumford & Sons are all squeezed into this cast.

What grabbed me first, though, wasn't the big stage. It was the time spent in rehearsal spaces and studios. I've never played a room like the Royal Albert Hall, but I've spent plenty of days in rooms like those, and the practice sessions and recording scenes were exactly how it goes: the casualness, and the friendships that matter more than the gig itself. Anyone who has spent a day in a Nashville studio will recognize that the energy in the room is more important than just a job. Because I know those rooms, I found myself listening to the film as much as watching it. You can hear choices being made in the mix, what gets pulled forward from the musicians and what's left in as background noise, and whoever mixed it was clearly using that artistic direction to drive certain moments home. It gives the film a texture a straight concert recording never would.

That ease in the room turned out to be the key to the whole film, because the biggest thing I learned is that the Opry is a family. You don't apply to become a member; one day, you're just asked to join. The film catches the genuine shock on the faces of the artists who get that invitation, and the feeling carries through everything that follows, from Luke Combs crying to the hugging and holding and the way everyone celebrates one another. They vibe like people who have always known each other.

The stages around Nashville are great, but next to this theater they're holding a candle to the sun. To say the grandeur of the Royal Albert Hall is astounding, would be to put it too lightly. What surprised me was how familiar the crowd looked though in this posh place. The British audience could have passed for one at home, and some had even dressed up like tourist cowboys and cowgirls. The music crossed over just as easily. The performance that hit me hardest came from Breabach, a Scottish folk band whose take on Celtic music, culture and dance resonated with my own Irish background and family. Mumford & Sons were a surprise too. I honestly didn't realize they were English, but their sound is so folk, and feels so country, that their place on the bill simply made sense.

That's also where my one criticism comes in, because I wanted more of exactly that. The film touches on Breabach and Mumford & Sons, but I would have loved for it to dig deeper into them and into the English side of the story, including why British audiences and artists wanted the Opry there in the first place. A film closer to half Opry and half England would have made the trip feel even more like a meeting of two cultures. Still, it's a small complaint about a film that moves well. The pacing never let it feel like sitting through a concert; it felt like a story being told. The roughly 70 of us at Regal Green Hills were right there with it, real music fans laughing and cheering every so often like we were in the hall ourselves.

Music documentaries aren't usually my kind of movie, but I enjoyed this one and learned a lot, and I'd say it's for everyone: longtime fans, newcomers, and local musicians like me. I walked in thinking the Opry was overhyped, a place built on how many pink cowboy hats might come through the doors. I walked out understanding why it matters so much to so many people. For a film about a 100-year-old institution, that might be the best thing it could do.