My Dad doesn't understand music. He doesn't listen to it, he can't tap his foot or snap his fingers to a beat, and he quite frankly doesn't understand what all the fuss is about. He listens to AM talk radio, and wants to possibly get satellite radio - for no other reason than it's a gadget he does not yet own. He could not name you three Rolling Stones songs if you spotted him "Satisfaction" and "Jumping Jack Flash", and he grew up in the sixties! In Berkeley! H graduated college in 1969 and yet he thinks Yoko Ono is the name of my last girlfriend.
My Dad simply doesn't like music. But he DOES like Johnny Cash. Why Johnny Cash? I have no fucking idea. When I was a kid and we'd drive somewhere, I'd beg him to turn that Burning Ring of Fire crap off. For whatever reason, Johnny spoke to the guy, or more accurately, he sang in a way that was clear, understandable, and a lot like TALKING. In other words, Johnny Cash was the original talk radio...
Anyway, as part of my "see all the Oscar movies effort", I saw "Walk the Line the other night. I couldn't help think of my dad the whole time. The music came on and I hated it, but God Dammit if I didn't know every fricking word.
The movie was very good. Not perfect by any means, but very good. I actually didn't think it was very good until it got into the second half. The first half was standard issue biopic crap, with several cliches that I absolutely hate.
Why are the makers of these movies so uncon-fucking-cerned with the facts?! Seriously, they're like, "yeah, and then he walks on a street and sees a record store and he gets a record deal." What? Can I get the real story please? Why am I watching this movie?! Listen, I understand the constraints of movies as well as anyone, but it seems like that would be kind of an important thing to include. Isn't the object to understand the man? And how about that first wife? Can I at least see how they met? That shit pisses me off, and this movie fell into all of that. (think about it though, if you only watched biopics, you'd think think that Sam Phillips was just some hick who opened up a studio in Memphis and got lucky as Elvis, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins and the rest just came and knocked on his front door) But I digress:
The second half saved the movie. Reese saved the movie. Their relationship was cool, and their acting was superb. Reese Witherspoon was convincing as someone I (and Johnny) would really want to be with. But let's get back to Johnny Cash.
Obviously, the guy did some great things and all of that. But I have to question any singer who can so convincingly be mimicked. How one of a kind are you when the actor playing you, who they picked presumably cause he resembles you physically - doesn't even need to be dubbed with your voice? And I've been noticing that when I get out of bed in the morning and my voice is that "just woke up deep", I do a spot on version of "Ring of Fire". And I listened to the real June Carter and she sounds nothing like Reese. It's completely different. So I'm just wondering where the brilliance was? He talks! With a deep voice! Over some simple music. At least bring in Nate Dogg to sing the hook, motherfucker!
All I'm saying is, if a man who never listens to music, can't keep a beat, and ignored the Stones during the sixties thinks you're the best, there's gotta be something wrong with you.