James Mangold’s Walk the Line wisely chooses to focus only on a short portion of Johnny Cash’s life. All the predictable musician biopic moments here: the repercussions of a childhood tragedy likely to stay with our lead character for the majority of the film, we witness those tentative first performances, and we see some of the songs we’ve all come to love being written – but thankfully these are kept to a minimum. Instead the focus is really on Cash and June Carter’s romance.
Joaquin Phoenix (The Village) delivers a powerful and brooding performance, though I would expect nothing less of him. The Cash in Walk The Line is wonderfully contradictory: on stage he’s a down on his luck battler who’s had it rough; offstage he seems to be stubbornly putting as many obstacles in front of him and his career as possible. He’s at times selfish, pigheaded and stupid, but this is part of what makes him such an individual and memorable character. Reese Witherspoon (Just Like Heaven) as June Carter is the perfect foil for Cash, and nothing like him whatsoever, which in a perverse way is what makes them so right for each other. It’s about time we saw Witherspoon in something other than a crappy romantic comedy, and she shines here. Up and comer Ginnifer Goodwin (Win a Date with Tad Hamilton!) is fantastic as Cash’s wife, as gradually both the role and the person get pushed to the sidelines as Cash blunders his way into celebrity. (And, as a small aside: ‘Buffy’ fans will recognise Larry Bagby, who played the Sunnydale High bully in the first few seasons as Cash’s bass player, Marshall Grant).
Biopics are at their best when they can entertain both types of viewer: those who have no knowledge of the main character, and those who have had a passionate interest in their life. As one of the former, I was captivated by this film. In fact I was compelled to go out and buy a Johnny Cash CD after the screening. This succeeds in a way Ray never did for me. Both films featured brilliant central performances, but Ray had a tendency to moralize and tried to encompass too much of Charles’ life.
Walk the Line never gets preachy, and whilst I know nothing of the real Johnny Cash, Mangold seemed determined to never add a glossy shine to proceedings. This is not a ‘rags to riches’ or even ‘triumph against adversity’ story, and thank heaven for that. This is a tale of a rugged and at times self-destructive man who offered the world a type of music previously unheard.