Movie Review: Shut Up and Sing

In the interest of full disclosure: I have been a fan of the Dixie Chicks for a long time. I don't know how long - at least 10 or 15 years. By the way, you might not suspect it, but I am a huge fan of a wide range of country music. (OK, maybe you're not surprised, but it seems off Brand to me. Maybe this is another desperate attempt to convince myself I'm mysterious.) Anyway, I have seen Dwight Yokam in concert several times. Ditto for Lucinda Williams, Alison Krauss and Union Station and even a little known band called Southern Culture on the Skids. Amongst the CDs in my office: Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, John Denver and Emmylou Harris.

So all this is to say, YES. I was predisposed to love this movie about one of my favorite down home country bands. So take it for what it's worth, but I loved this movie.

For those that don't know, "Shut Up and Sing" is a documentary that focuses on the period of time when the band The Dixie Chicks found themselves at the center of a national controversy. The imbroglio began after a live London performance in 2003 when lead singer, Natalie Maines, uttered the sentence, "Just so you know, we’re on the good side with y’all. We do not want this war, this violence, and we’re ashamed that the President of the United States is from Texas." The US invaded Iraq 10 days later.

Clearly remembering the ensuing political uproar, I thought "Shut Up and Sing" would be just about politics. I thought I was in for a Dubbya-slamming-free-speech-shilling documentary with a kick #$s soundtrack. And that would have been fine. But to my pleasant surprise, the story ended up being a lot more complex than the trailers (or this movie poster) gave it credit for.

First of all, the film allowed a glimpse into the creative process that I found true to life. Not that I've worked in the music industry, but I've spent my career peripherally involved with art directors, copy writers, film makers and yes, musical artists (despite evidence to the contrary, I'm sure that Office Depot whoa-whoa jingle didn't write itself). Any time I've seen the creative process depicted in a film or TV show, it's completely unrealistic (my favorite dramatization of an ad agency remains the classic Melrose Place. I still love that Alison worked her way from receptionist to President in less than one year and that they would frequently find out about new business pitches at around 10 in the morning and then they would happen over lunch that same day.) Seeing the behind the scenes of one of my favorite albums ("Taking the Long Way") only made me love it more.

Secondly, the film did a great job of humanizing these women by depicting the mundane and not so mundane challenges of managing family life while juggling an impossibly busy schedule. They're just like us. They struggle with their careers. They love their kids. They negotiate with their husbands about which one can sleep in on a Sunday morning. They're not professional hate mongers.

The film also covered another theme that was so fascinating to watch in the context of the Imus scandal. How should a radio station respond in the wake of public outcry? What's offensive? Who gets to decide? Actually, the radio execs came off looking pretty good in this film, I thought. You could sympathize with their plight and it was obvious their actions to boycott the band were driven by rational business decisions. Hard to make money off a station if you have no listeners. A related topic, the film showed hints of the complex business changes that lay ahead for a music industry who's power was shifting from radio programmers to fans with ipods. Nowadays, a radio ban is not quite the death knell it once was.

The film doesn't end on a completely victorious note for these gals. But if you watched the Grammy's, you know how the story really ends.