Country Blues

AS FAR AS movies go, tornados haven't been this popular since "The Wizard of Oz." Back then, though, the twister was simply a modern-day deux ex machine-a simple, foot-proof way of getting Dorothy from Kansas to Oz with no questions asked. The current cinematic trend, seen in Places in the Heart and now in Jessica Lange's new film Country, has taken upon itself the unenviable task of giving Meaning to the once familiar and unportentuous storm. While the tradition of literary storms, from King Lear to Moby Dick, is a valid one, in a less subtle medium like film, such an obvious use of symbolism can come across as heavy-handed and simplistic. Country is no exception.

With an unsuccessful brand of simplified Midwestern realism. Country tells--or perhaps champions is a better word--the story of a modern day farm family, the lvys, and their struggle against unfavorable farm legislation that threatens to take their land away from them.

As Jewell Ivy, a farmer's wife and mother of three Lange is physically unsuited for the part. Her ash blonde curls and youthful figure make her an unlikely candidate for mucking out stalls and herding sheep. And while a good actor can transform physical beauty--think of Olivier's gnarled Richard III--Lange's performance is as unconvincing as her appearance leads one to believe. Although the script calls for a strong woman who fights against all odds to keep her farm and family, Lange hangs back from any real confrontation. She goes through the motions but her heart just isn't in it. When she questions her son about a condom she has found in his room, for example, her voice has the soft cadences of a schoolgirl rather than the stern tone of an angry mother.

As in Tootsie. Lange spends much of her time on screen--and here that's a lot of time--just staring into the camera. When the manager of the farmers' agency tells her and her husband that they won't be able to get any more loans, she doesn't yell or even say anything; she simply stares emptily at him. In fact, when anything goes wrong, which is almost always. Lange assumes the all-purpose stare and leaves it to the audience to decipher the nuances of her character's feelings. The result is frustrating, to say the least, especially in light of the extraordinary emotional repertoire Lange demonstrated in Frances.

Sam Shepherd, as Gil Ivy, a good husband and kind father who buckles under the threat of losing his farm, is much more believable, if less heroic, than his on-screen wife. While the script leaves Gil's character largely undeveloped. Shepherd does a marvelous job with what part he has, bringing a freshness and honesty to his lines that are sorely missing from the rest of the film.

IN FACT, the movie's best scenes are those between Gil and his children. When Marlene, his Smartaleck young daughter, asks her brother if he almost died during a farming accident (which of course occured during the midst of the inevitable storm). Gil relieves; he tension by answering that he too almost died once. "When I first saw your mother, right there in history class. I had a heart attack--fell right off my chair. They had to call an ambulance and everything," ambulance and everything".

Unfortunately such lighthearted charm is missing from the rest of Shepherd's part as the film melodramatically portrays Gil's breakdown after the bank forecloses on his loans. His seemingly over night metamorphosis from a conscientious father to a drunk who beats up his son is a sudden and unbelievable one.

Apart from this one surprise, the rest of the film is about as predictable as a Harvard football game. The bureaucrats at the loan agency are all depicted as lily-livered "college boys" in direct contrast to the wholesome farmers whose calling is to "feed the world." Indeed, the film's political innuendos become slightly more than that when the camera reveals a larger-than-life portrait of a grinning Ronald Reagan behind the desk of the FHA's manager.

Comparisons between Country and another American realist film, Places in the Heart, are perhaps inevitable. While both movies depict a family's struggle to hold on to its land in the face of greedy bureaucracy, Places uses this struggle as a tool to develop plot and character. Country, on the other hand, in its overly anxious attempt to convey a political message, fails to give any depth to its characters and leaves us mere ideology in the place of art.