“Heartworn Highways” examines the outstanding singers and songwriters of the outlaw country movement, most of whom have chosen work outside the confines of the Nashville establishment.
In 1976, Director James Szalapski headed down the backroads of Tennessee and Texas to interview and document some of the period’s lesser-known musicians who formed one of my favorite genres, Outlaw Country. The loosely structured narrative features a line-up of mostly men but their inspiration draws from a multitude of genres like blues, folk, and the hippie culture. Growing up, I only heard mainstream Country in commercials or was forced to during annoying car rides with friends and relatives. But over time, I developed an appreciation for Americana and Alternative Country.
The first subject featured, Larry Jon Wilson, is unkempt, still nursing a hangover from partying the night before. After quite a few takes, Wilson’s baritone voice becomes clearer and his strumming stays in tune and on time. I really dug his recording studio with its unique log cabin design.
After the successful recording, Szalapski makes his way to Austin to greet Townes Van Zandt, one of my all-time favorite artists. With a silver tooth in his big smile poking out under a white Stetson, he’s holding a can of Coke, a bottle of Seagrams whiskey, and a rifle. He introduces his girlfriend, his dogs, and other farm animals that he’s raised and cared for over the years. I couldn’t help but match his happiness when he pretended to be taken underground by a large bunny for a brief joke. There’s a touching scene where he has a conversation with his black neighbor Seymour Washington, born in 1896. His nickname was “The Walking Blacksmith,” due to a lack of transportation and his metallic talent with horseshoes. Sitting alongside his girlfriend and Seymour, Van Zandt plucks his guitar strings singing the first song he wrote, “Waiting Around to Die.”
An overlooked theme in Country is the deconstruction of working-class politics. For example, “Alabama Highway,” by Steve Young, is a ballad recalling the harsh treatment of sharecroppers by their cruel landlords that plays about halfway through. Most of the popular genre songs on the radio these days are about heartbreak or aspiration.
David Allan Coe admirably pilots his own tour bus to the Tennessee State Prison where his father spent a life sentence and himself served a brief stint as a teen. It’s a treat to see a former inmate returning to entertain forgotten people and share entertaining and personal anecdotes. With an outrageous outfit and bedazzled cowboy boots, Coe solidified his Rhinestone Cowboy moniker.
Interviews with the owner of Big Mack McGowans Wigwam Tavern who declares Johnny Cash, “has shot his wad,” are comical and interesting. He’s seen the best and the worst performers in his tiny venue and his mumbled Southern cadence is a relic of the past. His friend, Glenn Stegner, used to play at Uncle Dave’s recording studio in Macon, Georgia. Stegner regales some humorous anecdotes and plays a little ditty while the two men indulge in some bourbon. I would love to visit a place like this and be transported to a legendary night of music.
The interviews, music played, and old stock images from the old days, form this rugged format into an absorbing rockumentary. Like Scorsese’s “The Last Waltz,” “Heartworn Highways” documents an important moment in Americana while maintaining an intimacy rarely captured on camera. Released around the same time, “The Last Waltz,” overshadowed this feature and Szalapski died in 2000 believing it to be a failure. Fortunately, thanks to Kino Lorber, there’s been a resurging reverence for it.
The occasional choppy editing is offset by freewheeling camerawork and an enjoyable soundtrack. There are some impressive moments like a time-lapse of an audience shuffling to their seats, a montage of seemingly every pickup truck ever made until 1976, and the aftermath of a Highway crash captured on the director’s journey home. Forty-five years later, the period’s grievances still resonate and we could always use more original storytellers.
“Heartworn Highways” receives a re-release from Kino Lorber and is now playing in Virtual Theaters
