Yahooo! Rose-Lynn’s been let
out of prison (where she was sent because of a small problem involving a package
of heroin). There’s fringe on her leather jacket, a rebel yell on her lips, and
an ankle-monitor underneath her cowboy boot,. After a quick stop at the
country-music bar where she used to serve drinks and front the local band, she
heads for home, but her re-appearance after a year away doesn’t exactly spark
joy. Sounds like the makings of a country song.. But this isn’t Nashville.
Nope, it’s Glasgow, Scotland.
In the appealing new
slice-of-life drama called Wild Rose, Jessie Buckley plays a young woman
so vibrant that you can’t help rooting for her even when she’s making a hash of
her life, She’s quick to fight, quick to blame others for her own mistakes. (In
her mind, her incarceration is entirely the fault of the judge who sentenced
her.) Most egregious, she’s all too ready to break the promises she’s made to
her two young children (tellingly named Lyle and Wynonna) when these get in the
way of her dreams of music stardom in America.
There are some creaky
elements to Rose-Lynn’s story, most of them involving a would-be benefactor
played by the charming but unlikely Sophie Okonedo.. Post-prison, Rose-Lynn
comes to work for this wealthy lady of leisure as a housekeeper, putting her
musical ambitions on hold in a bid to lead a responsible adult life.. But soon,
once Okonedo’s Susannah discovers the singing talents of her feisty new “daily
woman,” she offers to play fairy godmother for Rose-Lynn’s dream trip to
Nashville. Of course the trip eventually happens—but not in the way we would
expect, and with a far different outcome. It’s a treat, though, to see the awe
on Jessie Buckley’s face as she stands on the stage of the “Mother Church”
itself, Nashville’s timeless Ryman Auditorium. One of the film’s many pleasures
is a chance to catch a glimpse of Nashville, the world’s Music City, while also
introducing us to the more low-key attractions of workaday Glasgow.
Rose-Lynn may blossom in the
company of the kindly Susannah, but the real key figure in her life is her
down-to-earth mother, Marion, played by the always capable Julie Walters. It’s
she to whom Rose-Lynn turns for emergency childcare, and for the hard-earned
nuggets of wisdom that she’d really rather not hear. Marion can be tough on her
only child, but she’s also her biggest supporter, one who understands that
Rose-Lynn will need to grow up in an emotional sense before she can earn the
opportunities that may someday be waiting for her. It’s ironic that in the last
few days I’ve been learning about Anzia Yezierska, a novelist so determined to
devote herself to her craft that she literally wrote her young daughter out of
her life for many years, letting the child be raised by an ex-husband and
erasing her from her own autobiography. That’s what some artists -- both male
and female -- do in order to pursue their careers unhindered by family
responsibility. But Marion’s not one to let that happen, and her down-to-earth
goals and Rose-Lynn’s soaring ambitions make for a powerful combination.
Understanding the thick
Glasgow accents in this film sometimes makes for a challenge. But the
soundtrack is splendid indeed, featuring the voices of some of Nashville’s
finest female singers, and also Jessie Buckley’s own powerful pipes. Her character has tattooed on
her arm the classic description of country music as Three Chords and the Truth.
Wild Rose has convinced me of the wisdom of that sentiment.
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