Clint Eastwood, looking drawn, rumpled and weathered, takes a radical, courageous departure from his usual reliably stalwart tough guy persona in this gently moving, defiantly unheroic and very low-key seriocomic 30's Depression-era set drama as Red Stovall, a boorish, feckless, dissolute, alcoholic drifter, failed would-be country-and-western singer/songwriter and general all-around worthless, ill-tempered and irresponsible rapscallion with an unfortunate knack for getting into trouble, messing things up and making life hell for everyone who gets close to him. Slowly dying from tuberculosis, Red makes a lengthy, arduous pilgrimage from Oklahoma to Tennesse to make his dream of performing at the legendary Grand Ole Opry come true, taking his foolishly awestruck nephew Whit (nicely played by Clint's then 14-year-old son Kyle) and his frisky grandfather (a superb John McIntire) along with him. During their eventful odyssey Whit breaks Red out of jail after Red is arrested by drawling good ol' boy sheriff Jerry Hardin for stealing chickens, Red takes Whit to a whorehouse so the boy can lose his virginity, and the group has colorful encounters with an obnoxious, conniving teenage girl (a perfectly irritating Alexa Kenin) who tries to dupe Red into believing he impregnated her, grubby mechanic Tracey Walter, venal highway patrolman Tim Thomerson, and mean, untrustworthy bar owner Barry Corbin prior to Red arriving in Nashville for his do-or-die audition, only to erupt into a coughing fit in front of the hard-nosed talent scout (a marvelous cameo by John Carpenter movie regular Charles Cyphers) while in the middle of belting out the wonderfully regretful and reflective titular song.

Eastwood's subtle direction doesn't in any way force the wry humor or delicately heart-breaking sentiment found in Clancy Carlile's folksy, quietly observant script, allowing the story's considerable poignancy to stem naturally from the characters and the experiences they have. Eastwood furthermore delivers an excellent and convincing performance as Red, an atypical Eastwood lead who's initially quite unappealing and only becomes endearing in the picture's tragic closing sequences in which Red's deep-seated yearning to belatedly realize his potential and subsequently be somebody makes itself touchingly apparent. The rest of the cast, which also includes Verna Bloom and Matt Clark as Red's tolerant, long-suffering relatives, are every bit as fine.

The elegant, lyrical cinematography by Bruce Surtees gives the film a misty, lived-in look that's a beguiling blend of warm heartfelt nostalgia (Eastwood was born in 1930 and partially grew up during the Great Depression; he traveled about the country with his itinerant laborer father during this troubled time) and scrappy downcast authenticity. Noted country-and-western producer Snuff Garrett was the music supervisor for the stand-out soundtrack; such famous and revered singing stars as Ray Price, Porter Wagner, Frizzell and West, blues singer Linda Hopkins, and especially Marty Robbins have telling bit parts -- Robbins, who died shortly before the movie opened theatrically, has a lovely moment as a back-up session musician who assumes lead vocal chores when Red becomes too weak and sickly to finish the song himself. Eastwood sings a few numbers with a frayed, raspy, worn-out baritone -- it's a hoarse, yet affecting croak which bespeaks countless years of hard living and heavy drinking with a bracingly matter-of-fact directness. Why, "Honkytonk Man" even comes complete with a provocative philosophical message: Sometimes it's the people you expect the least from who teach us the most about life. Unjustly vilified by most critics and ignored by audiences when it first came out, this tender little gem deserves to be rediscovered as one of Clint Eastwood's most surprising and adventurous as well as thoughtful and underrated change-of-pace cinematic excursions that he has ever made to date.

There's not much as far as the story in this country and western drama with songs, just a series of events involving Grand old Opry helpful Clint Eastwood traveling along with his nephew (real life son Kyle Eastwood) in hopes of getting a gig. The only real conflict is that he has tuberculosis, so it's obvious as to where this will be heading. Along the way, there are some amusing moments, particularly Eastwood's efforts to get his nephew laid (even though he's obviously underage),an attempt to rob a greasy spoon where the frantic woman behind the counter starts screaming hysterically, rushes to get her own gun, and when Eastwood encounters her again and tries to show her that the rifle is unloaded, she begins screaming uncontrollably again and fires in the air accidentally, not at him.

Then there is an encounter with blues singer Linda Hopkins on Beale Street in Memphis, and it makes you wish you was in the film a lot more. Why she notices that young Kyle seems to be drugged is never really explained. John McIntire, as Eastwood's aging father, is the only other familiar face, and really doesn't have much to do other than to be the cute old man.

Clint has a pleasant enough singing voice, but it really makes no sense as to why he would think that he has what it takes to make it at the Opry. That being said, it's easy to see why this film didn't do as well as other Eastwood films in the '80s because it is completely different from his action comedies and crime films, perhaps more personal and thus interesting on that level as a slice of life drama where you don't expect a linear story. So if you go in knowing that this is basically not going to engross you dramatically but maybe touch you here and there with Eastwood's sensitive portrayal, you'll find some enjoyment in it.

The Wagoneer farm in Oklahoma is devastated by a dust storm. The family plans to go out to California. The brother Red Stovall (Clint Eastwood) is a sickly drunkard Honkytonk Man going to Nashville to play in the Grand Ole Opry. Grandpa wants to go back home to Tennessee. Whit (Kyle Eastwood) wants to join Red. Red is looking to be repaid $100 by Arnspriger (Barry Corbin). After some misadventures, Red forces Arnspriger to pay up but Marlene (Alexa Kenin) hitches a ride in the trunk.

This is a fun road trip. I'm not sure that the acting gene passed on to Kyle. He's OK but nothing special. Alexa Kenin gets some fun hilarity. The big mistake is when the group splits up. The group is just gaining chemistry but then they are scattered to the winds. There is no reason why the group couldn't go all the way to the Opry to see Red perform.