COAL MINER'S DAUGHTER: Blu-ray (Universal 1980) Universal Home Video
Few movie
biographies are as unflinchingly faithful to the facts of their subject as
Michael Apted’s Coal Miner’s Daughter (1980),
the unfettered and at times unflattering, exaltation of the indomitable human
spirit embodied by First Lady of Country Music, Miss Loretta Lynn. Only five
years earlier, Robert Altman put country music on the cinematic map with his
wicked satire, Nashville (1975); an
ensemble piece co-starring Ronee Blakely as a Loretta Lynn knock-off. Three years after Coal Miner’s Daughter, director Bruce Beresford would plumb the
hardships of backwater hillbilly folk attempting to make good on the American
dream in Tender Mercies (1983). But
Apted’s movie has two great advantages; first, unvarnished verisimilitude
through the complicity and kindness of Loretta Lynn, who not only gave her
blessings but heavily campaigned on The
Tonight Show for Sissy Spacek to play her, should a movie ever be made of
her life story. Although complimentary, the invitation proved somewhat daunting
to Spacek who was not entirely certain she could do the part justice.
Yet, if the
moving picture represents America as both its mirror and conscience, then
Spacek’s portrait of Loretta Lynn is undeniably one of its finest
manifestations, resonating with heartbreaking authenticity. Spacek’s generosity,
as that rarest of talents, managed perhaps the greatest coup in her
assimilation of Loretta Lynn’s character traits; understanding that the essence
of a person is not in the aping of the external. For her intuitive character
study, Spacek absorbed not only Lynn’s inner mechanics, but she also inhaled
something of the soot from the impoverished coalfields of Kentucky to reproduce
an eidetic image, credibly substituted for the real thing. Viewing Coal Miner’s Daughter today, one is
immediately dumbstruck by the uncanny tribute, extending well
beyond the deft handling of Lynn’s Appalachian twang or even her unearthly
ability to render Lynn’s songs with a rare gift defying mere impersonation.
Listening to Spacek’s pre-recordings, Loretta Lynn was to joke that the public
might think Spacek sang them better than she did. Perhaps not ‘better’, though arguably just as good,
imbued with that perspicacious spark of irrefragable yearning that made Lynn
such an iconic country/western legend in her own right and time.
In the annals
of bio pics, Coal Miner’s Daughter is
a rarity. First, its subject – Loretta Lynn – was not only alive but very much
still a headliner on the country music circuit; hence, the film’s biographical
aspects remain, arguably, a work in progress. What the film does spectacularly
well is meld Hollywood’s yen for the traditional ‘rags to riches’ story, using the tried and true template of its Cinderella-esque transformation, while
remaining ardent and steadfast in documenting Lynn’s own decidedly less
glamorous and more rocky struggles against seemingly insurmountable odds. Coal Miner’s Daughter delivers its ‘feel good’. But it allays the
anticipated ‘warm and fuzzy’
emotional response from the audience, taking dead aim at a more poignant
intelligence that still manages to jerk the proverbial tear.
Acknowledging
that Universal had very little faith in his movie, director Michael Apted
brought a keen eye and fresh approach to telling his story, one uncluttered by
a sycophantic appreciation for country music. Indeed, Apted knew nothing of
Loretta Lynn beyond his own mother’s appreciation for the star. This might have
spelled disaster, except that what Apted was ultimately after was the maxim of
Lynn’s life - not a recreation in moving tableau derived from her press
clippings. And in viewing Coal Miner’s
Daughter today one can sense the purity of the work extending from this
naiveté.
While Loretta Lynn
embraced the project from the get-go, her husband, Oliver Vanetta ‘Doolittle’
‘Doo’ ‘Mooney’ Lynn was less than enthusiastic, particularly after learning
Tommy Lee Jones would be his alter ego. The public’s perception of Lynn’s late
husband remains divided, but Thomas Rickman’s screenplay spars us the clichés with
a varied portrait of this man who is, at once, forceful, self-reliant, affectionate,
yet fallible. Undoubtedly, there will be those who continue to view ‘Mooney’
Lynn as the epitomized domineering and possessive showbiz hubby who married a
child, then pretty much rode her back as his meal ticket. But this snap
analysis is both unfair and untrue. Doolittle Lynn was a decorated soldier and
a calculating individual with a strong work ethic by the time he met Loretta.
His love for her, though at times awkward, was never anything less than genuine
and, in the years that followed would help to shape and reshape her career in
meaningful ways. The film is unapologetic in its depiction of the couple’s
initial marital angst; Doolittle’s infrequent flirtations with cheap floozies,
his sexual frustration with a resistant Loretta whom he takes advantage of
against her will on their wedding night, his various manipulations made to coax
her into a triumphant debut in front of a live audience, etc.
Doolittle’s
initial apprehensions over the casting of Tommy Lee Jones were exacerbated by a
flubbed first meeting. The original plan had been to chauffeur Jones and Apted
by limousine to the studio where Lynn had recorded most of her hits; then drive
on up to the ranch for a meet and greet with Doolittle. Jones, who had already
dyed his hair reddish-blond for the part, had also brought along his faithful
hound dog, Beau to break the ice. However, after leaving Apted and Jones at the
studio, the overzealous limo driver went on to the ranch with only Beau in the
backseat. Hence, when the limo arrived, Doolittle was introduced to a
gregarious animal that proceeded to playfully jump all over him. However, the stalemate between Jones and
Doolittle did not last for very long. In fact, Doolittle came to appreciate
Jones’ humanity in the role, taking him under his wing and even showing him how
to operate the tractor/plow for one of the pivotal scenes in the movie.
The drama
deriving from Loretta Lynn’s real life is the stuff of bittersweet dreams and
good solid bio-pics: Lynn (Sissy Spacek), who at age thirteen became a child
bride in the forgotten impoverished mining town of Butcher Hollow and by age
twenty had four children with returning soldier, Doolittle ‘Mooney’ Lynn (Tommy
Lee Jones); who, after receiving a guitar instead of a wedding band for her
tenth anniversary taught herself how to play; who etched her career from
nothing more than sheer willpower and her husband’s underlying belief in her
talents. A chance meeting with then reigning country diva, Patsy Cline (Beverly
D’Angelo) created brief friction in Lynn’s marriage before Cline’s untimely
death in a plane crash. Afterward, Lynn, who had toured the one night
honkytonks and county fairs with Cline, assumed the mantle as country music’s
undisputed first lady, courting record producers and radio DJ’s with
uncharacteristic nonchalance.
The genius of
Thomas Rickman’s screenplay (written with Lynn’s guidance and based on her
autobiography) is that it begins at the beginning with Loretta Webb’s (Sissy
Spacek) obvious affections for ‘Mooney’ (Tommy Lee Jones) – so nicknamed
because he runs a moonshine distillery with his buddy, Lee Dollarhide (William
Sanderson). After Lee is shot, Doolittle briefly becomes a miner and pursues
Loretta – taking her on wild rides in his flaming red jeep. Known for going it
his own way, Doolittle’s unorthodoxy is in conflict with Loretta’s forthright
father, Ted (Levon Helm) who is dead set against the match. Still, nothing can
dissuade Loretta from marrying Doolittle.
But married
life is hardly a bed of roses. Doolittle steals Loretta’s virginity on their
wedding night. He hits his new wife out of frustration, flirts with other women
and eventually sends Loretta packing, back to her family. Yet, nothing will
sever the pair’s overriding affection for one another, particularly after
Doolittle learns Loretta is pregnant with their first child. Doolittle takes a
job in Northern Washington, working hard to save enough to send for Loretta.
The heartfelt farewell between father and daughter at Van Lear station caps off
the first act of the movie.
From here, the
screenplay fast-tracks through the birth of four more children before Loretta
was nineteen and the death of her beloved father; affectingly handled when
Loretta thinks she sees Ted walking over the grassy horizon in his mining duds;
suddenly realizing it is actually their neighbor come to call with the bad news
of Ted’s passing. Loretta and Doolittle return to Butcher Hollow for the
funeral, after which Loretta falls into a deep depression. She is stirred from
her sorrow after Doolittle, recognizing her musical gifts, makes her a present
of a Martin guitar on their tenth wedding anniversary. Although possessing no
formal training, Loretta quickly develops an ear for chords and begins
composing her own songs.
Inviting
Loretta out on the pretext of a date, Doolittle instead gets his very reluctant
wife to audition for a local honkytonk band on request night. She is an
immediate sensation, her overnight success bolstering her confidence. Norm
Burley, owner of the small independent record label – ‘Zero’ – is so impressed
by Loretta’s singing he affords the couple expenses to cut Lynn’s first hit
single, ‘Honkytonk Girl’. It’s a
start; one stalemated through lack of publicity but rapaciously furthered by
Doolittle’s enterprising and shameless self-promotion. Working by day, at night
Doolittle assumes all of the responsibilities for Loretta’s ‘career’; mailing
letters, homemade photos and demo records out to all the disc jockeys in the
south. The pair even crashes a station, forcing the jockey to play their single
and interview Loretta, whose genuineness in front of a microphone proves
infectious.
But from here,
Doolittle’s aggressive plans for Loretta’s future increasingly spiral out of
control. Dazzling in her debut at the Grand Ole Opry, Loretta dedicates her
follow-up performance at Ernest Tubb’s Record Shop, the Midnite Jamboree, to
her favorite singing star – Patsy Cline (Beverly D’Angelo), presently recovering
in hospital from a near-fatal car wreck. Cline is enchanted with Lynn and soon the two
become inseparable. Herein, a difficulty arises, in that Doolittle, having
acknowledged his shortcomings as a promoter, cannot help but see how he is fast
becoming just like Cline’s husband, Charlie Dick (Bob Hannah); an appendage
expected to fall in line and follow along with the edicts of his wife. However,
playing second fiddle does not appeal to Doolittle. Not long after, a
disquieting rift begins to develop between Loretta and her husband.
It might have
all ended in divorce, except that on March 5, 1963, Patsy Cline is killed in a
plane crash. Devastated by the loss of her best friend and confidant, Loretta
throws herself into an exhaustive touring schedule. While her public image
rises like cream to the top of her profession, behind the scenes Loretta is
rapidly depleting the life source fueling her talents. Coupled with the
stresses of being separated from her large family and Doolittle, who looks
after the children in Loretta’s absence on their sprawling ranch in Hurricane
Mills, Loretta becomes addicted to painkillers to manage disturbing headaches.
Begging Doolittle to accompany her on her next tour, the new round of
engagements proves disastrous when Loretta, who is obviously suffering from the
effects of ill health and drug abuse, succumbs to a nervous breakdown on stage,
rescued and carried out of the auditorium by Doolittle as the packed house
looks on.
After
considerable rest and recuperation, Loretta marks a triumphant return to the
Grand Ole Opry, now rechristened the First Lady of Country Music. Some months
later, Doolittle takes his wife up the side of a mountain where he reveals
plans to build a new dream house overlooking the Tennessee valley. Loretta
quarrels with him briefly about the location of the bedrooms and Doolittle
settles their argument by declaring he will build himself a treehouse a little
further on ahead to escape further criticisms. The movie concludes with Loretta
singing ‘Coal Miner’s Daughter’ to a
sold out crowd at the Opry.
Coal Miner’s Daughter is richly
expressive as both tribute and triumph of the human spirit, and, poignantly
moving as a superior drama with sublime, light comedic touches grounded in
verisimilitude and peppered with blind optimism. It remains the benchmark for
most any other bio-pic to be judged. The fine line between capturing the
essence of Loretta Lynn’s life and falling into that all too predictable mire
of gross caricature or worse, stilted waxworks (where everyone looks the part,
though arguably never comes across as made of flesh and blood) is never
crossed. Both Sissy Spacek and Tommy Lee Jones know their way around an
expertly written scene. Spacek has confessed that, at times, she was not
entirely pleased with Jones’ natural disregard of her requests; as in the
sequence where Doolittle recklessly drives his jeep through the muddy dirt
roads of Butcher Hollow at breakneck speed to impress Loretta. At one point,
Spacek was nearly thrown from the vehicle as a result of one of Jones’ hairpin
turns. Promising not to do it again, Jones, in fact, upped his speed for take
two, incurring Spacek’s wrath.
Michael Apted’s
directorial vision for the movie was always to immortalize his subject. In the
lady herself, Apted is working with extraordinary source material. But in Sissy
Spacek he has a superior actress capable of delivering the goods as few
expected. Everything about Spacek’s performance is inspired and untouchable. In
her wake (and unstoppable Oscar-win) Tommy Lee Jones’ stellar turn as Doolittle
Lynn went quietly unnoticed – an unforgiveable sin by the critics and Academy.
Beverly D’Angelo’s Patsy Cline (also doing her own singing) is as celebratory.
Some 34 years later, Coal Miner’s
Daughter endures as a definitive look inside a truly iconic American
legend, told plainly and with great compassion: an affecting, flavorful and
distinguished masterpiece.
Well, it’s
about time! Coal Miner’s Daughter
arrives on Blu-ray via Universal Home Video and the results are impressive and disappointing. What?!? Ralf
D. Bode’s cinematography has been faithfully reproduced in 1080p. Everything pops as it should. Coal Miner’s Daughter is not a movie
overwhelming in impressive camera set-ups or lush sceneries. But this Blu-ray
manages to rekindle that gritty fondness for the isolated enclave of Butcher
Hollow and the rather seedy beginnings of the country music scene long before
country music was itself considered trend-setting. Flesh tones are the biggest
improvement herein. On Universal’s previously issued DVD they were wan and,
occasionally piggy pink. On Blu-ray they adopt a much more natural hue.
Exterior shots reveal a startling amount of clarity with all of the razor-sharp
precision we’ve come to expect from the Blu-ray format. Contrast levels have
also significantly improved. The image is slightly darker, but film grain has
been faithfully reproduced – looking quite natural. What I cannot abide is Universal's lack of image clean-up. Age-related dirt, scratches, nicks and chips are 'glaringly' apparent throughout. Badly done!!!
Universal’s
upgraded 5.1 DTS audio sounds quite startlingly fresh, particularly during the
many musical inserts. It’s a solid and commendable upgrade. Extras are all direct imports from Universal’s
25th anniversary DVD edition and include a feature-length audio
commentary from Spacek and Apted that is both thorough and interesting. We also
get a fantastic interview piece featuring Apted and Loretta Lynn shot on
location at Lynn’s museum; another with Apted and Tommy Lee Jones, and finally
(and oddly) an AFI presentation featuring former President George Bush (shot
while Bush was still governing). The oddity herein is that Universal has earmarked
this inclusion as ‘a Tribute to Coal
Miner’s Daughter’ when, in fact, Bush only casually mentions the movie by
title – one of many – the tribute otherwise made to the AFI as an institution
dedicated to the preservation of America’s movie heritage. Regardless, this upgrade comes highly
recommended.
FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)
4.5
VIDEO/AUDIO
3
EXTRAS
2.5
Comments