coal miner’s daughter

Make more Country music biopics is all I have to say. After learning of the plans to film the life of Johnny Cash, I’ve decided that there aren’t enough movies about Country music stars. I mean sure, there was The Buddy Holly Story (who wasn’t country but pretty close to it). And there was also a terrible movie about Woody Guthrie. But the grandma of all Country music biopics has to be Coal Miner’s Daughter. Unlike most biopics, and in particular, ones that have the cooperation of the film’s subject, this one is unflinching in its portrayal of Loretta Lynn from the squalor of her mountain community to her sudden marriage to “Doo” Lynn, and her rise to fame and subsequent addiction to drugs which left her forgetting lyrics and turning to her band for cues.

I really don’t know why there aren’t more movies like this. Americans love Country music, and they love themes of humble beginnings, hard-earned success, fast-living and finally, either tabloid death or redemption. Country music stars have all that plus most of the old guard could probably drink guys like Keith Moon under the table. I mean, shit, these dudes have done some crazy fucked-up stuff. George Jones once drove around Memphis for a week, high on gak, and talking to a lifesize cut-out of Elvis Presley. And of course they’re always pulling guns on people. George Jones could very likely outdrink Snoop Dogg, and he’s like, 104 now. The country guys may not know Karate, but they know Ka-razy. What’s not to love?

Seriously, I should be in Hollywood, writing scripts.

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