I feel like 'Crossroads' doesn't get talked about a great deal. That's unfortunate, because although the greatest appeal may be to a more limited audience, it's a very good movie that deserves more attention.
Before I knew who legendary guitarist Steve Vai was, I had first discovered Yngwie Malmsteen. It was because of that small kernel of knowledge, buying a Malmsteen record at a store long ago, that an employee mentioned 'Crossroads' to me, co-starring Vai, as a film I may enjoy. All that to say: This movie is, above all, for musicians - guitarists especially - or for people who enjoy guitar-centric music.
Even for a general audience, though, 'Crossroads' is very well made and enjoyable, particularly in the "coming of age" genre that can become milquetoast very quickly. The writing is solid: Juilliard student Eugene (Ralph Macchio), fascinated with blues music, seeks out Willie (Joe Seneca), a musician that once performed with the nigh-mythical blues legend Robert Johnson. Willie begrudgingly agrees to teach Eugene a purported "lost song" of Johnson's if the young man will help the aging harpist return to the south for some unfinished business.
The cast also includes a young Jami Gertz, Joe Morton, virtuoso Steve Vai himself, and even a small appearance by Tim Russ. They all perform well in their roles, convincingly moving the story along. But the meat of 'Crossroads' isn't in any production details, nor in the acting, but in the music, for which even the admirable screenplay is but a vehicle.
That the film is inspired by, and partly centered around, the legend of Robert Johnson's deal with the devil just about says it all. Nothing in this movie gets nearly as much love from the camera, from the writers, from the sound crew, or from the cast as those scenes where Eugene is playing the blues, with Willie at his side on the harmonica. Guitar music is very much the focal point of 'Crossroads,' culminating in the inevitable yet riveting climactic guitar duel that every film about music, or musicians, needs to furiously study.
While 'Crossroads' isn't a "musical" per se, music is so essential to the film that it's difficult not to draw a somewhat tangential comparison to movies filled with song and dance. And what I want to say in that regard is simply this: The average musical, good or bad, places a substantial amount of its weight behind glitz and glamor, pomp and circumstance, fireworks and spectacle. You're not just watching a movie, or listening to songs - you're getting the ultimate show, the all-inclusive experience, whether you like it or not. 'Crossroads,' on the other hand, is a film dominated by music that dispenses with every excess. You're watching not to be swept away by song, but to learn the blues. I said that the narrative here is a vehicle for the music, but that's not entirely accurate: the music IS the narrative. Even the characters are just window-dressing.
At risk of repeating myself, that emphasis on music is what somewhat limits 'Crossroads.' Though not necessarily so much so to have garnered awards, the film is solid. But unless a viewer is neck-deep in music, wholly engaged with the musicality on display, there's only so much otherwise to keep one fully invested.
At length, 'Crossroads' is a classic, and it holds up well even 35 years later. I am not personally engaged with music nearly as much as I used to be, but I still love this film, and I'd recommend it to just about anyone. The only caveat is that how much one enjoys it may depend on your musical preferences.
Before I knew who legendary guitarist Steve Vai was, I had first discovered Yngwie Malmsteen. It was because of that small kernel of knowledge, buying a Malmsteen record at a store long ago, that an employee mentioned 'Crossroads' to me, co-starring Vai, as a film I may enjoy. All that to say: This movie is, above all, for musicians - guitarists especially - or for people who enjoy guitar-centric music.
Even for a general audience, though, 'Crossroads' is very well made and enjoyable, particularly in the "coming of age" genre that can become milquetoast very quickly. The writing is solid: Juilliard student Eugene (Ralph Macchio), fascinated with blues music, seeks out Willie (Joe Seneca), a musician that once performed with the nigh-mythical blues legend Robert Johnson. Willie begrudgingly agrees to teach Eugene a purported "lost song" of Johnson's if the young man will help the aging harpist return to the south for some unfinished business.
The cast also includes a young Jami Gertz, Joe Morton, virtuoso Steve Vai himself, and even a small appearance by Tim Russ. They all perform well in their roles, convincingly moving the story along. But the meat of 'Crossroads' isn't in any production details, nor in the acting, but in the music, for which even the admirable screenplay is but a vehicle.
That the film is inspired by, and partly centered around, the legend of Robert Johnson's deal with the devil just about says it all. Nothing in this movie gets nearly as much love from the camera, from the writers, from the sound crew, or from the cast as those scenes where Eugene is playing the blues, with Willie at his side on the harmonica. Guitar music is very much the focal point of 'Crossroads,' culminating in the inevitable yet riveting climactic guitar duel that every film about music, or musicians, needs to furiously study.
While 'Crossroads' isn't a "musical" per se, music is so essential to the film that it's difficult not to draw a somewhat tangential comparison to movies filled with song and dance. And what I want to say in that regard is simply this: The average musical, good or bad, places a substantial amount of its weight behind glitz and glamor, pomp and circumstance, fireworks and spectacle. You're not just watching a movie, or listening to songs - you're getting the ultimate show, the all-inclusive experience, whether you like it or not. 'Crossroads,' on the other hand, is a film dominated by music that dispenses with every excess. You're watching not to be swept away by song, but to learn the blues. I said that the narrative here is a vehicle for the music, but that's not entirely accurate: the music IS the narrative. Even the characters are just window-dressing.
At risk of repeating myself, that emphasis on music is what somewhat limits 'Crossroads.' Though not necessarily so much so to have garnered awards, the film is solid. But unless a viewer is neck-deep in music, wholly engaged with the musicality on display, there's only so much otherwise to keep one fully invested.
At length, 'Crossroads' is a classic, and it holds up well even 35 years later. I am not personally engaged with music nearly as much as I used to be, but I still love this film, and I'd recommend it to just about anyone. The only caveat is that how much one enjoys it may depend on your musical preferences.