Captive audience.

Walk the Line, writer/director James Mangold’s take on the life of Johnny Cash, doesn’t break any new ground in the biopic genre. It’s all pretty standard-issue stuff: impoverished roots, rise to stardom, excesses that nearly lead to ruin, redemption that brings a more enduring success, roll credits. But it does a credible job of telling both a fascinating life story and a heartfelt love story, ultimately painting a picture of two people who really were that over-used word: soul mates.

The movie hinges on the first-rate performances of its two leads. Joaquin Phoenix gives a career-defining performance, showing us a man who is good but flawed, an artist who can inspire and comfort millions while he hurts those closest to him. Phoenix also does his own singing and while there’s no mistaking his vocals for Cash’s own he does capture the tone of the man and becomes the true embodiment of a rock star, prowling the stage and captivating the audience.

In one particularly effective scene, after begging for an audition with music producer Sam Phillips (Dallas Roberts), Cash and his two-man back-up band fail to impress with some run-of-the-mill gospel. When Phillips asks for a song that really speaks for his life, a song he’d sing if he were lying in the gutter about to breathe his last, Johnny gives him “Folsom Prison Blues,” a song of guilt and heartache sung from the point of view of a very bad man. It’s a great scene as Johnny starts hesitantly then grows more confident as the song goes on, becoming a performer right before our eyes.

"Stop following me. Movie's over."

Reese Witherspoon is sweet and feisty and moving as June Carter, a woman who had been famous since childhood. A pragmatist who learned to be funny after being told she wasn’t that strong a singer, June also has a knack for falling in love with the wrong men, and she never fell harder than for Johnny Cash. How wrong was he? Not only was he married (as was she, for that matter) he had a growing drug-addiction to contend with. Witherspoon convincingly walks the line between being drawn to this self-destructive guy and her instinct for self-preservation that won’t let her truly embrace him until he cleans up his act.

The film has been criticized for portraying Cash’s first wife Vivian (Ginnifer Goodwin) as shrewish, but I don’t think that’s entirely fair. She’s not always supportive, but I think the movie also makes it clear that she knows what the growing relationship between Johnny and June means and is understandably upset about it. (I don’t know, if my husband was putting up pictures of another woman in our house I might throw a tantrum myself.) Goodwin has a thankless role here and she plays it well. I also liked Robert Patrick as Johnny’s father, a man who radiates resentment and disapproval no matter what his son achieves. 

Walk the Line will obviously appeal most to fans of Johnny Cash, but I think it’s worth seeing even if you’re not in that group. A great character, a strong love story, and some amazing music: what more do you need?

Gorilla Pants rating: 3 out of 4 bananas