Walk the Line

National Review has 2 reviews by Frederica Matthews-Green and Steve Beard of the new Johnny Cash biopic Walk the Line.
I really can't wait to see this film. It's the only film that'll draw me back to the cinema after the disappointing Pride and Prejudice
The main actors (Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon) were chosen by Johnny and June before they died - I found it really poignant to receive an email from the Johnny Cash newsletter about the film. The last one I received that I can really remember is the email advertising The Man Comes Around, for which I waited for what seems like ages before going into Tower Records daily for a week before it was released demanding a copy.
While my reaction to the email is the same (I'm getting palpitations) unfortunately my actions are limited - while Tower will often sell you a CD a few days before its official release, daily trips into the Savoy will not result in a showing of Walk the Line.
I'm actually tempted to fly in the face of all IMRO actions and look for a copy on the file sharing networks - but I won't mainly because I'm off to Krakow tomorrow and have to get up early to buy thermal vests and waterproof fashionable boots - for the next 5 days the temperatures will be hovering around the zero mark with snow - and it's set to improve on Friday when we leave! When I bought the tickets nearly 2 months ago, it seemed like a good idea. Now it doesn't seem so good.
My mother suggested purchasing long johns - a suggestion I turned down after having once purchased long johns before, a rather boring story I shall regal you with now. At the impressionable age of 15, while on my family's annual trip to McElhinneys in Athboy's annual January sales, I was sent from the ladies' shop up the road to the mens' to buy my father's usual ration of Schiesser vests and long johns. Instead of the greying sensible gentlemen that one usually finds in rural men's shops, there was a very attractive 16 or 17 year old boy serving. Undeterred by my rather unorthodox purchases for a teenage girl I went up clutching my long johns and presented them to the nice boy. Who then asked me if that was all I wanted - I said it was. He asked were they the right size. I replied that they were for I had tried them on.
My face became a rather alarming shade of puce and my sympathetic nervous system kicked in and I was sweating all over.
It was not a good day. Especially because my mother lost control of the car on the way home on the icy back roads of Meath and my father was not overly impressed with his new long johns when he had to drive 40 miles to pick up his family of women and his wife’s bargain purchases in some kindly farmer's house beside the wreck of the car.
Blogging will be light unless I’m forced into the warmth of a Krakovian internet café for the next week….
I’ll leave you a little bit of Johnny from my favourite album – Live From Folsom Prison –
Hello, I’m Johnny Cash…
I hear the train a comin'; it's rollin' 'round the bend,
And I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when.
I'm stuck in Folsom Prison and time keeps draggin' on.
But that train keeps rollin' on down to San Antone.
When I was just a baby, my mama told me, "Son,
Always be a good boy; don't ever play with guns."
But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.
When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry.
I bet there's rich folk eatin' in a fancy dining car.
They're prob'ly drinkin' coffee and smokin' big cigars,
But I know I had it comin', I know I can't be free,
But those people keep a movin', and that's what tortures me.
You really have to listen to it live – the inmates are shouting and catcalling especially when he sings “watch him die” – and when the electric guitar solo picks up, I can’t help smiling.