Down From The Mountain

2001, Movie, NR, 98 mins

DOWN FROM THE MOUNTAIN
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Somebody — the Coen Brothers, or maybe their collaborator, music producer T Bone Burnett, it's never quite specified — had a very smart idea: To stage a live concert featuring the American roots music and performers heard on the soundtrack of the Coens' O BROTHER, WHERE ART THOU? as a benefit for the Country Music Hall of Fame. This document of the event, held at the historic Ryman Auditorium on May 24, 2000, isn't great cinema: Frankly, it's shot and edited like a PBS special of average quality. But musically it's often breathtaking, and not solely because it dispenses with O BROTHER's patina of post-modern irony. Structurally, the film is pretty familiar stuff, beginning with ten or fifteen minutes of pre-concert backstage and rehearsal footage that introduces most of the performers, including old-guard stars like Emmylou Harris (who turns out to be a gadget and baseball freak), more recent Nashville upstarts like Gillian Welch and David Rawlins, and legends such as bluegrass pioneer Ralph Stanley, briefly glimpsed in a wonderful B&W TV clip from the early '60s. Then, following an intro by O BROTHER star Holly Hunter, it's on to the show, emceed by Nashville fixture John Hartford; he also contributes a hysterical version of "Big Rock Candy Mountain" and sits in on the fiddle from time to time (best known as the composer of "Gentle on My Mind," Hartford lost a 20-year battle with cancer just prior to the film's release, but looks vital as ever onscreen). Standout performances are almost too numerous to mention: Harris, for example, is radiant and in gorgeous voice on various traditional tunes and her own "Red Dirt Girl." If the Cox Family's version of the white gospel tune "Will There Be Any Stars in My Crown" doesn't make the hair on the back of your neck stand up, you probably need medical attention. And the movie's secret weapon is probably dobro legend Jerry Douglas, whose occasional solos are little marvels of passion and concision. But the true scene stealers (patriarch Stanley aside) are the Peasall Sisters, three little girls (let's just say that none of them is of Bas Mitzvah age) whose backwoods harmonies evoke the Carter Family on helium. As Welch observes after watching them rehearse, W.C. Fields had it right: Never follow an animal act or cute kids. leave a comment --Steve Simels
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Down From The Mountain
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