Column: American Dream

Dear readers,

Shelbyville hosted a rap concert on the Public Square last week. I was going to write a review of the concert, but then I realized that I knew absolutely nothing about rap music.

Oh, I know a little. I know there are many genres including Old School, Gangsta, Trap, and Mumble. I started to do a little research and then got Lil Pump’s “Gucci Gang” stuck in my head. I finally got rid of that ear worm by listening to Trace Adkins’ “Honky Tonk Badonkadonk.”

Giving up on writing a review of the downtown rap performance, I turned on the television and discovered that the movie “Hillbilly Elegy” was playing. Ron Howard (who will always be Opie to Jack Yeend) directs the film version of the bestselling memoir of the same title written by J.D. Vance. The movie came out in 2020, but with Vance being picked to be Trump’s running mate this past week, both the movie and book are enjoying renewed popularity.

I usually enjoy popcorn as a movie snack but for Vance’s Appalachian memoir, I paired it with a can of boiled peanuts and a Ball jar of moonshine. So, let’s explore the celluloid transformation of J.D. Vance’s Hillbilly Elegy — a tale that went from hollers to Hollywood.

Opie from the Andy Griffith Show grew up to be Ron Howard -- the movie director who gave us “Apollo 13,” “A Beautiful Mind,” and that delightful “Splash” with a mermaid named Daryl Hannah. Howard is like the carnival barker who lures you into the tent with promises of wonder. And wonder we did when he took Vance’s memoir and spun it into cinematic gold.

Hillbilly Elegy — the movie — unfurls like a quilt stitched together by Mamaw’s calloused hands. Glenn Close, bless her soul, steps into Mamaw’s shoes. She’s got more grit than a gravel road, and her performance is Oscar-worthy. Amy Adams also channels Vance’s mama, Beverly, with a dash of desperation and a sprinkle of resilience.

Vance begins life like most young hillbilly lads, scrappin’ his way through the hollers of Kentucky. He is punched in the nose and almost drowned by other fun loving hillbilly kids.

His parents left behind all the hillbilly fun to find their fortune working in factories in Ohio. Just like most of the Midwest including cities like Gary, Indiana, the good factory jobs ended.

Vance was living in what became known as the rust belt of America. His dad ran off. His mom turned to drugs. He ended up being raised by his grandparents. A story of poverty, resilience, and the indomitable spirit of Appalachia — I devoured it like funnel cake at the county fair.

Watching the movie, I couldn’t help but wonder how other directors would have treated the book. Let’s play “What If?”

Alfred Hitchcock: Picture Vance on a train hurtling through the Appalachian night. Suspense drips like moonshine from the overhead compartments. Mamaw clutches her shotgun. The soundtrack? A haunting banjo riff. The twist? Vance’s long-lost cousin is the real villain, and the holler hides secrets darker than a Hitchcock shadow.

Fritz Lang: Ah, the German expressionist! Vance’s world would be all stark angles and chiaroscuro. Mamaw’s porch becomes a cathedral of despair, and Beverly’s tears flow like molasses. Vance himself? A silhouette against the moon, wrestling with his past.

David Lynch: Buckle up, Lynch takes us on his usual surreal journey. Laura Dern would have to play both J.D.’s mom and Mamaw. She is the only actress who still thinks Lynch is a genius. The hollers? A dreamscape where banjos hum secrets. And the plot? Like “Inland Empire,” it’s a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside a moonshine jug. No one knows what’s happening, but we’re all mesmerized. Lynch would later explain that it was a dream within a dream within another dream.

In summary, like all Ron Howard directed movies, Hillbilly Elegy is excellent. The story of J.D. Vance’s journey from childhood poverty to Yale Law School is inspirational. His continued success, becoming the candidate for vice president, is proof the American dream exists.     

See you all next week, same Schwinn time, same Schwinn channel.