Quiet and leisurely paced, though pulsing with a distinct rhythm, Dandelion is a pretty film that is a showcase for its star, Kiki Layne.

Layne is Dandelion, a struggling, but talented musician who plays the kind of places in Cincinnati where the audience are busier talking on their phones than listening to her heartfelt tunes.

Trying to make a dramatic personal change and get out of her rut, she heads to a gig at a motorcycle rally in South Dakota, where the audiences will be lrger and, one hopes, more receptive to hearing her out.

She meets the charismatic Casey (Thomas Doherty), who has also come to the rally, though he gave up his own musical hopes for the big leagues long ago. The two begin one of those relationships that blossom quickly between strangers, but are destined for the short term.

But talking things out with Casey and other musicians leads to the insight that her journey should be about the art of it all, the artistic merit. Growing from newfound perspectives and hitting some highs and a heartbreaking low, she heads back home, wiser and defiant, not defeated.

If this sounds like an art house character study, then I’ve described it correctly. For some, that’s an automatic deal-breaker. For me, it was nice to accompany Layne and her nuanced performance. There’s an ending song that Dandelion plays almost in its entirety that is the perfect curtain closer.

Scottish actor, Doherty is also terrific as the tender but deceiving mentor/lover.

I’ve intentionally left out the one or two cinematic surprises which are spikes in the gentle wave pattern of the narrative. One was especially emotional.

I do strongly recommend seeking out Dandelion if you’re the kind of viewer who likes to chill and soak in a film on its terms. That’s not everyone, but the way director and writer Nicole Riegel made us care about these people and their journeys hooked me and moved me.

Dandelion is now exclusively in theaters | Rated R