Coal Miner's Daughter (1980)

Coal Miner's Daughter, a nominee for Best Picture of 1980, is the story of country music superstar Loretta Lynn. Well, to be honest, it's really more about the story of Lynn's lifelong romance with her husband, Doolittle or "Mooney." Rather than have a biopic that focuses primarily on the rise of Lynn's career, the filmmakers have chosen to keep the emphasis on the ups and downs associated with her marriage, particularly as they affected her career at times. It's an intriguing move because it takes most of the emphasis away from what Lynn is perhaps best known for doing, her music, and puts the story squarely in the tradition of romantic movies. However, this is a somewhat unconventional love story.

Sissy Spacek plays Lynn, and while she doesn't really look all that much like Lynn to me, I have to give her credit for never trying to do an impression of the superstar. Spacek sings on her own--her voice is not dubbed by Lynn--and, as a result, she becomes much more realistic in the role. She won an Oscar for her portrayal. I might have preferred a win by Mary Tyler Moore as that tightly wound mother in Ordinary People, but you can't argue with the depth of Spacek's portrayal in this film.

Her husband is played by a young and impossibly handsome Tommy Lee Jones. Jones has a tough job to do in this film. He has to remain likable despite being a womanizer. Lynn should know better than to fall in love with Doolittle. After all, he got his nickname "Mooney" from his dangerous work as a moonshiner. Yet the film suggests that you can't stop people from falling in love although her parents certainly do their part to keep their 14-year-old daughter safe from the advances of Jones' former soldier. It has to be the sense of adventure he represents that excites her so, and Jones certainly depicts that with all of the emotions that devilish grin of his can muster.

Lynn co-wrote the book on which the film is based, and she used the plain language with which she always speaks. The film mirrors that sense of plainness in its depictions of various stages of the Lynns' marriage. The wedding night is a disaster, for example, and she is one of the most inept housewives ever, it seems. He gets a job in a coal mine, a job he hates, and it isn't long before he hits her and later starts cheating on her. The kids come in quick succession, and the family doesn't seem to be making much financial headway until Doo (Loretta's own nickname for her husband) buys her a guitar for their anniversary.

When the film allows Spacek to sing, you begin to see just how enticing performing was to Lynn. The first audience (at a Grange Hall) gives her a thrill, and it isn't long before her career becomes the focus of the marriage. She writes a song for herself, "Honky Tonk Girl," and it becomes a hit thanks to the two of them driving around asking deejays to play it. I really enjoyed watching the performances throughout the second part of the film. Lynn's debut at the Grand Ole Opry, for example, features Ernest Tubb, and I can remember seeing him perform a couple of times when I made it to Nashville. You also have to admire how quickly she's able to react to events in her life and turn them into songs. It's not long after she finds Doolittle in the back of a car with another woman that she writes "You Ain't Woman Enough to Take My Man," one of my favorite Lynn songs.

By the way, there's also a couple of moments set in Tillie's Orchid Lounge, which I have also visited. It looks a lot cleaner in the movies, let me tell you. When I had a drink there back in 1994 or so, the walls were stained from all of the cigarette smoke and the smell of alcohol permeated the place. Legends die hard, I suppose. Or, perhaps, they've cleaned the place up to appeal more to tourists.

There's a key cameo by Beverly D'Angelo as Patsy Cline, who befriended Lynn and even helped her in her career. The two of them have a couple of songs they sing together, and both of them have strong voices. Again, these are not attempts to copy the singing of the actual stars. I suppose it's more of an homage or even a suggestion of how the "originals" really sang. Cline's death was quite a blow to Lynn, and the significance of that moment is powerfully demonstrated in this film.

If I have any harsh criticism of the film, it's probably the handling of Lynn's alleged mental breakdown. It just happens so quickly. Suddenly, Lynn's taking pills to help her sleep and fight off headaches; there's no gradual increase in her drug usage. She and Doo are fighting all the time, but she wants him with her on the road. The reasons for their fighting are not always apparent, but perhaps it's just the hardship of being on the road all the time? He and the members of the band have to feed her lines to her songs so she can remember the words, but in performances depicted only moments before, she's just fine on stage. It's all there, but her collapse on stage seems as if it comes out of the blue when, in truth, there had to have been a series of signs that Lynn's health was deteriorating.

I have always admired Loretta Lynn. I think she stands now as the greatest female singer country music has ever produced. If you look at the catalog of her songs, many of which she wrote herself about her own life, you'll see some of the best titles ever put on vinyl (or, now, CD). Coal Miner's Daughter isn't a comprehensive look at the life of this amazing woman who overcame extreme poverty to become one of the most celebrated women in the world, but then it doesn't claim to be that anyway. It is, however, a glimpse into a key aspect of who Lynn is and how she got to be that way. That is reason enough to watch this film.

Oscar Win: Actress (Spacek)

Other Oscar Nominations: Picture, Adapted Screenplay, Art Direction, Cinematography, Film Editing, and Sound