A Line Worth Walking

Rating: 8/10 (18 June 2007)

Everybody dreams about attaining super stardom as a singer. Hollywood has been making movies about career-oriented crooners since Al Jolson captivated audiences with his warbling in the first 'talkie' picture "The Jazz Singer." Biographies about musicians either fictional or factual since "The Jazz Singer" (1927) have been a Tinseltown staple. The late 1940s saw Larry Parks portraying "Jazz Singer" Jolson in "The Jolson Story" (1946), but the template for recent bio-musicals grew out of the 1950s. The Susan Hayward epic "With a Song in My Heart" (1951) about songstress Jane Froman struggling for a comeback after a plane crash and the Frank Sinatra opus "The Joker Is Wild" (1957) about nightclub performer Joe E. Brown surviving gangsters who slashed his vocal chords represent two examples. The earliest country western vocalist whose ill-fated affairs inspired a movie was Hank Williams, Sr., in "Your Cheatin' Heart" (1964), starring George Hamilton in one of his few memorable roles. Basically, the thing that sets these biopics apart is whether the songster is still alive at the time of the film's release. Mind you, Williams died more than a decade before "Your Cheatin' Heart," but his accidental death gave that film an unforgettable air of tragedy. Sissy Spacek's Oscar-winning portrayal of Loretta Lynn in "Coal Miner's Daughter" (1980) serves as the most recent model for country western crooners, overshadowing Jessica Lange's evocative but overlooked "Sweet Dreams" (1985) about the doomed life of Patsy Cline. One theme, however, prevails throughout these bio-musicals; each performer pays a perilous price for fame and fortune. Despite overwhelming odds, they ascend the scales of fame only to plunge into a pit of addiction. The Billie Holiday story "Lady Sings the Blues" (1971) with Supremes lead singer Diana Ross emerged as one of the earliest efforts where drug addiction figured prominently in the depiction of a star's demise.
"Copland" director James Mangold's authentic but anemic biopic "Walk the Line" about the life and tunes of country music superstar Johnny Cash, illustrates the latest example of the rags-to-riches saga about a singer caught up in drug addiction. "Gladiator" heavy Joaquin Phoenix delivers an Oscar worthy performance as the notorious 'Man in Black' who rose to fame alongside the rockabilly likes of Elvis Presley, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Buddy Holly in the late 1950s. Johnny Cash fans should ignore the complaints against "Walk the Line" leveled by the singer's relatives. Ultimately, however, who would want to endure the trials and tribulations that Cash suffered to carve out his unique niche as a popular American musical icon. More often than not, "Walk the Line" qualifies relentlessly depressing. Some may complain that their favorite songs, like 'A Boy Named Sue,' got lost in the shuffle. Indeed, Phoenix looks like a dead ringer for Cash, and he mimics Cash's trademark mannerisms, including the way the Arkansas native wielded his guitar on stage like a weapon. Lightweight leading lady Reese Witherspoon of the "Legally Blonde" movies matches Phoenix note for note as sassy June Carter. "Walk the Line" amounts to Witherspoon's best performance since her trash-talking villainess in the forgotten 1996 crime melodrama "Freeway." Similar to Spacek in "Coal Miner's Daughter," Phoenix and Witherspoon performed the songs themselves without professional singers dubbing their voices. Scenarist Gill Dennis of "Return to Oz" and Mangold based their highly selective screenplay on Johnny Cash's autobiography. Undeniably, they had to take liberties or this gloomy 138-minute, PG-13 parable would have worn out its welcome. They chart Cash's life from his origins as an Arkansas sharecropper's son. Two themes form the emotional crux. First, Cash's saintly older brother Jack (newcomer Lucas Till) died trying to earn a dollar in an awful lumber yard accident. Our hero bore the burden of grief for his brother's death, because he went fishing while Jack cut wood on a table saw. Cash felt that his father blamed him for his Jack's death. Second, an unhappily married Cash pursued elusive vocalist June Carter obsessively from the first time that they met on stage. Like all singer biopics, "Walk the Line" shows Johnny Cash surmounting wholly impossible obstacles to attain stardom. The landmark album that Cash recorded at Folsom Prison where he serenaded murderers, thieves, and rapists turned his career around and made him a superstar. Mangold deserves credit for never sugar-coating this saga. Nevertheless, after two hours of watching Cash's tortured life, you'd have to be a masochist to want to follow in his footsteps. The least talked about performance in his superbly cast movie, however, is Robert Patrick as Cash's gruff father. Since his villainous debut in "Terminator 2" (1991), Patrick has been typecast as a tough guy in anonymous straight-to-video actioneers. As undeniably gripping as Phoenix and Witherspoon are, Patrick anchors the action as Cash's long suffering father. Uneven at times and predictably grim as all get out, "Walk the Line" still ranks as pretty powerful stuff.