WALK THE LINE
Director: James Mangold
Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Reese Witherspoon
2005
Reviewed by: Teri Tom
Watson Scale rating (0 being worst and 6 being perfect): 4.8
In seeing a film like WALK THE LINE, I suppose it helps that I don’t really know anything about Johnny Cash. Sure, I know the flat, monotone delivery and I’ve stolen my share of delayed bass-string Luther Perkins riffs. But unlike many of my friends, I wasn’t around when The Man in Black made his mark on American music. And I’ve never read any of the Cash books on which this film is based. Heck, I can barely imagine a time when Johnny Cash wasn’t around. Stories like his are so embedded in the American psyche – poor rural farm boy, mean dad, sex, drugs, rock and roll, yada, yada, yada. You think you’ve heard it all before, but to see it unfold on the big screen is really quite satisfying.
You forget that there was a time when Johnny Cash was a salesman. And a time when Sam Phillips would’ve doubted a talent like Cash’s. You forget that even a man like Johnny Cash had to start somewhere.
Much of the credit, of course, goes to the two leads – Joaquin Phoenix as Cash and Reese Witherspoon as June Carter. The always riveting Phoenix is excellent, although, again, not being too familiar with the real Cash, I don’t have much to compare him to. But I do have my Johnny Cash CD’s. And in that department, Phoenix is really amazing. Granted, Johnny Cash may not be the most difficult vocalist to imitate, but that doesn’t take away from Phoenix’s spot on, and rather spooky, channeling. I was in the record store yesterday and “Ring of Fire” was playing. It took me a few minutes to decide whether or not it was the real thing. I guessed correctly that it was, but I really had to think about it.
Witherspoon is also excellent. She does Southern warmth and twang so well, she reminded me of friends I have in Nashville. Not being up on my celeb history, it wasn’t until after I’d seen the film that I read that she’d grown up in Nashville. No wonder June Carter seems to come so naturally to her. And she’s no slouch on the vocals either.
Again, I don’t know these people. Nor have I read the books, so I can’t comment on the Hollywood-ized ending. But the Cash/Carter relationship makes for a great story and solid entertainment. Part of what makes that chemistry work is that the music is the film’s centerpiece. Some of the music sequences are so long, it almost feels like you’re at a concert. So instead of getting forced on-screen romance, the music sequences, as the old storytelling rule goes, show instead of tell us. The shots are in-your-face close. You are actually under the lights and in the smoke and darkness with the characters. And the slap bass is thumping and the brushes on the snare are at train tempo. And you can see – no feel – how Cash and Carter would be swept up by each other.
As usual, I’ve got to give some credit to the music here. But this time it’s coming from the side of me that’s the roots music snob. This film would’ve been a disaster without LA roots veteran T-Bone Burnett on board. From the film’s opening Folsom Prison rumblings to the Sun Studios slapback echo to Luther’s crisp Tele tones, you might say the music is what makes this movie go.
That the music is so central to the film, though, is both the film’s biggest strength and weakness, because I never felt like it dealt completely with Cash’s demons. He was sort of screwed up and then after awhile he wasn’t. Which is kind of how it happens in life. It just doesn’t always work well within a two-hour movie time frame – but it’s still certainly a two hours worth spending in the theater.
