Steady like a train, sharp like a razor

We saw Walk the Line last night, and I have to tell you, I was a little underwhelmed. I can’t claim to be a Johnny Cash fan, though I do understand his historical and cultural and artistic significance. Blah blah blah, you know that crap already. I’m talking about the movie. I was bored through parts of it, and I failed to really ever see Johnny as anything but moody and needy.

As for Joaquin’s Johnny, he got the mannerisms down and did a mostly remarkable job singing the songs, but his voice just doesn’t possess the same devastating echo that the Man in Black’s did. A voice that could make tin roofs vibrate. And Joaquin was a bit puny to be playing a man so imposing. I know, I’m demanding the impossible. I do that when I see movies. Haven’t you learned anything about me? In all, Phoenix’s effort was monumental and I’m not sure there would have been anyone else better for the role. Ditto for Reese Witherspoon. That accent is country as hell, and it’s dead-on.

It was a good film in all, and (if it’s to be trusted) I learned quite a bit I didn’t really know about the Cash-Carter story. I probably would have liked it better if we had watched it in a traditional theater instead of the drive-in, because I couldn’t see shit and there were entire low-contrast scenes that came across as pitch black.

I loved seeing Memphis and Hendersonville and Nashville as locations. It’s one of the 2.3 percent of movies that aren’t set in New York City, so thank god it was even made. And it’s also cool that both of Johnny’s wives are played Tennessee natives — Ginnifer Goodwin (from Memphis) and Reese Witherspoon (from Nashville).

Afterward, we stayed for Derailed just long enough to see Jennifer Anniston get raped, and that pretty much put an end to the frivolity of the night to an abrupt end. Talk about a buzzkill, man.