Clint Eastwood - Dirty Harry, The Man With No Name - occasionally embraces a project that is the antithesis of his usual anti-hero roles. There is a touch of those characters in "Honkytonk Man"; Red Stovall is a loner, for example. But the similarities stop there. This is an Eastwood labor of love. One gets the impression that he enjoyed making this film and really didn't care one iota whether the public did, or whether it made any money. While the love and nurturing that he poured into it doesn't make it a great film, or even a very good one, it does have its moments and is worthy of a viewing.
Eastwood plays Red Stovall, a consumptive man of the road who makes his living crooning and playing his guitar in roadhouses and flophouses. Knowing that his affliction while take him sooner or later, probably sooner, he embarks for Nashville to take his shot at the Grand Ole Opry with his nephew Whit (played by Eastwood's son, Kyle) and his father in tow. After a very slow first 45 minutes, during which many a VHS/DVD renter has likely been irrevocably lost, the film picks up pace. Along the way they encounter various foils of the road - a small-town sheriff, a deadbeat who owes Red some badly-needed money, an ambitious young woman, car troubles - but finally arrive in Nashville where Red takes his shot.
Clint sings in this one, and he's not half bad; however, in one seen where his disease gets the better of him mid-song and one of the session musicians has to take over at the microphone, the replacement's voice outshines that of Red, an unintentional reminder of Eastwood's limitations.
There's a reason Kyle Eastwood has only appeared in only four films, all others being minor roles. But there is also a connection here between father and son, and it works. There are plot holes - whatever happened to Grandpa? - but the final hour of the movie redeems the film and it ends on a note that Hollywood wouldn't choose, almost always a good thing.
6 out of 10.
Eastwood plays Red Stovall, a consumptive man of the road who makes his living crooning and playing his guitar in roadhouses and flophouses. Knowing that his affliction while take him sooner or later, probably sooner, he embarks for Nashville to take his shot at the Grand Ole Opry with his nephew Whit (played by Eastwood's son, Kyle) and his father in tow. After a very slow first 45 minutes, during which many a VHS/DVD renter has likely been irrevocably lost, the film picks up pace. Along the way they encounter various foils of the road - a small-town sheriff, a deadbeat who owes Red some badly-needed money, an ambitious young woman, car troubles - but finally arrive in Nashville where Red takes his shot.
Clint sings in this one, and he's not half bad; however, in one seen where his disease gets the better of him mid-song and one of the session musicians has to take over at the microphone, the replacement's voice outshines that of Red, an unintentional reminder of Eastwood's limitations.
There's a reason Kyle Eastwood has only appeared in only four films, all others being minor roles. But there is also a connection here between father and son, and it works. There are plot holes - whatever happened to Grandpa? - but the final hour of the movie redeems the film and it ends on a note that Hollywood wouldn't choose, almost always a good thing.
6 out of 10.