David Carradine, looking suitably gaunt, tattered and worn-out (and doing his own astonishingly tuneful, subdued, rawboned singing with a hoarse, but sturdy baritone, plus playing a pretty mean acoustic guitar), gives a terrifically tenacious, touching and totally believable performance as legendary folk singer/songwriter Woody Guthrie in this excellent, engrossing, ruggedly authentic biopic about Guthrie's tough, but eventful formative years during the Great Depression. The late, great Hal Ashby does a sterling job directing this lengthy (it's two and a half hours long), ambitious, prodigiously expansive, but never dull or meandering film: the meticulously telling recreation of the downcast, financially and emotionally troubled, spirit-wrenching Dust Bowl era never strikes a single false note, there are many acutely observed, often wryly humorous vignettes (Guthrie's encounter with a likable, allegedly "insane" overweight man is a small gem), the pacing slogs along at an ingratiatingly insouciant, leisurely clip that's completely in sync with that decade's intrinsic dreariness, the hard times of the 30's are neither cloyingly sentimentalized nor grossly simplified, and the movie overall successfully creates and maintains a delicate, heart-melting poignancy that's made all the more affecting because it stems naturally from the characters and the grueling ordeals they courageously face throughout the film.
Although Carradine's exemplary portrayal -- simple, sincere and sweetly moving while effortlessly radiating a durable, dignified inner strength that's quietly overwhelming in its very humility -- is the main thespian showpiece featured herein all the other actors in parts major and minor alike are equally outstanding: Melinda Dillon as Guthrie's loyal, pushy, long-suffering wife, Ronny Cox as a kindly, willful itinerant minstrel, Randy Quaid as an earnest union organizer, Gail Strickland as a thoughtful, caring soup kitchen proprietor, Ji-Tu Cumbaka as an amiable train-jumping hobo, M. Emmet Walsh as a gabby motorist who ejects Guthrie from his car after he says "s**t" in front of his wife, Brion James as the needy father of several hungry kids, John Lehne as a strict, repressive radio station owner, James Hong as the peppery, peevish chili cook at a roadside diner, and Robert Ginty as an impassive fruit picker. Robert Getchell wrote the fine, colorful script. Both Haskell Wexler's beautifully evocative, golden-hued cinematography and Leonard Rosenman's flavorsome, understated country and western score deservedly won Oscars. A lovely, touching and quite wonderful film.
Although Carradine's exemplary portrayal -- simple, sincere and sweetly moving while effortlessly radiating a durable, dignified inner strength that's quietly overwhelming in its very humility -- is the main thespian showpiece featured herein all the other actors in parts major and minor alike are equally outstanding: Melinda Dillon as Guthrie's loyal, pushy, long-suffering wife, Ronny Cox as a kindly, willful itinerant minstrel, Randy Quaid as an earnest union organizer, Gail Strickland as a thoughtful, caring soup kitchen proprietor, Ji-Tu Cumbaka as an amiable train-jumping hobo, M. Emmet Walsh as a gabby motorist who ejects Guthrie from his car after he says "s**t" in front of his wife, Brion James as the needy father of several hungry kids, John Lehne as a strict, repressive radio station owner, James Hong as the peppery, peevish chili cook at a roadside diner, and Robert Ginty as an impassive fruit picker. Robert Getchell wrote the fine, colorful script. Both Haskell Wexler's beautifully evocative, golden-hued cinematography and Leonard Rosenman's flavorsome, understated country and western score deservedly won Oscars. A lovely, touching and quite wonderful film.