entertains as a musical, but at the same time, it shatters the utopia of
entertainment promulgated by Hollywood’s most self-reflexive genre,
offering instead a dystopia of fragmentation and dissolution. If the Holly-
wood musical promotes spontaneity and joy over convention and the inte-
gration of its characters and audience (Feuer 331–38), then Nashville
dismantles these twin goals. In the conventions of the genre, joy and spon-
taneity sparkle in performances that soar and transcend the mundane, car-
rying audiences along in their wake. The performances in the film never
reach this magical state, however, because they remain tied in some way
to political, commercial, or personal entanglements. Haven Hamilton’s
recording session of “200 Years” illustrates performance as an economic
entity for a record label, and the song’s lyrics are ironic in the context of the
film’s references to the social and political turmoil of the time (“We must be
doing something right to last 200 years”). Hamilton’s Grand Ole Opry stint
turns into a self-congratulatory retrospective of his career, and his duet
with Barbara Jean at the Parthenon counts as a political favor for the
Walker campaign. Meanwhile, whenever Connie White performs, she does
so in conscious competition with Barbara Jean. Tom, Bill, and Mary’s ren-
dition of “Since You’ve Gone” turns into Mary’s angry lament to Tom for his
betrayals; Tom’s performance of “I’m Easy” is a proposition to the married
Linnea, which creates tension for Mary, Opal, and L. A. Joan.
One singer, however, seems able to rise above the grasping world of
Nashville in her performances—Barbara Jean. Her singing radiates sincerity,
and she commands rapt attention whenever she is onstage. The cinematic
apparatus enhances her charisma by consistently shooting her from a low
angle in a medium long shot and slowly zooming forward to a close-up of
her face as she performs. The low angle accentuates her magnetism, while
the slow zoom to a close-up insulates her within the world of her perform-
ance at the same time that it draws us into that world. Cuts to the audience
within the movie indicate that it, too, is affected by her aura. However, these
cuts also compromise the transcendent quality of her performances. In the
hospital chapel, Barbara Jean’s soulful rendition of “In the Garden” mes-
merizes the chapel audience, Pfc. Kelly being its touchstone, as the camera
cuts from Barbara Jean to his rapt presence. However, instead of cutting
back to Barbara Jean to complete the shot/reverse shot, the camera enu-
merates the reality of Vietnam and the casualties of war: Mr. Green, sitting
next to the soldier, intrudes upon the moment by leaning over to tell Kelly
that his son died in World War II while serving in the navy.
Likewise, in the Opry Belle sequence, cuts to the audience again fea-
ture a star-struck Pfc. Kelly, and this time Opal interrupts his rapture by
146 GLENN MAN