I love the Blues. It's been with me since I was 12. And although I have broadened my musical horizon considerably over the past decades, it still is the Blues, be it electric or acoustic, that sounds like "Home" to me. From what I have seen and heard in Walter Hill's movies - "The Wanderers", "Streets of Fire", "48 Hours" are the ones that immediately spring to mind - I believe he loves the same kind of music that I love. I bought the "Crossroads" soundtrack LP right after I saw the movie back in the Eighties. I must have listened to the title track a hundred times, trying to figure out and then playing to Ry Cooder's fantastically grooving riff.
I hated the movie, though. I recently saw it again and I still don't like it. I feel, Hill did the Blues a disservice.
Sure enough, the movie obviously was made with the best intentions. Not only does it celebrate the Blues and especially Mississippi Delta Blues legend Robert Johnson. It also makes the case for cultural open mindedness by demonstrating the virtues of stylistic cross-pollination: Juilliard School needs to understand that the Blues is as valuable as Mozart, and our "hero" wins the final guitar battle by applying his extraordinary classical chops.
So, I can sympathize with the message Walter Hill sends here. And the story is kept on an acceptable level of suspense: Will our hero become friends with Willie Brown, the old blues harmonica player who supposedly performed with Robert Johnson way back when? Will he find Johnson's 30th song? In the end, will he save his soul?
Still, the movie made me cringe. There are two main reasons: leading actor Ralph Macchio, and the story's ridiculous climax. Macchio seemingly cannot shake off the feeling he is being watched. The camera makes him feel awkward. In my eyes, he never loses his self-consciousness. Yes, his role does require a certain amount of insecurity and goofiness - but being insecure actor is not the same as being able to convincingly incorporate it in the role you are playing.
Worse, still, is the duel of the guitars at the end, which will decide our hero's fate. Two guitar players take turns at shredding, like boxers exchanging blows - and at the end there is an unquestionable winner, because one guy wasn't able to play some high notes and bend his e-string high enough? Give me a break. At the climax of the story we are presented with a ridiculous caricature of musicianship. Which in my mind is the direct opposite of what Hill wanted to achieve.
I hated the movie, though. I recently saw it again and I still don't like it. I feel, Hill did the Blues a disservice.
Sure enough, the movie obviously was made with the best intentions. Not only does it celebrate the Blues and especially Mississippi Delta Blues legend Robert Johnson. It also makes the case for cultural open mindedness by demonstrating the virtues of stylistic cross-pollination: Juilliard School needs to understand that the Blues is as valuable as Mozart, and our "hero" wins the final guitar battle by applying his extraordinary classical chops.
So, I can sympathize with the message Walter Hill sends here. And the story is kept on an acceptable level of suspense: Will our hero become friends with Willie Brown, the old blues harmonica player who supposedly performed with Robert Johnson way back when? Will he find Johnson's 30th song? In the end, will he save his soul?
Still, the movie made me cringe. There are two main reasons: leading actor Ralph Macchio, and the story's ridiculous climax. Macchio seemingly cannot shake off the feeling he is being watched. The camera makes him feel awkward. In my eyes, he never loses his self-consciousness. Yes, his role does require a certain amount of insecurity and goofiness - but being insecure actor is not the same as being able to convincingly incorporate it in the role you are playing.
Worse, still, is the duel of the guitars at the end, which will decide our hero's fate. Two guitar players take turns at shredding, like boxers exchanging blows - and at the end there is an unquestionable winner, because one guy wasn't able to play some high notes and bend his e-string high enough? Give me a break. At the climax of the story we are presented with a ridiculous caricature of musicianship. Which in my mind is the direct opposite of what Hill wanted to achieve.