Honkytonk Man

Synopsis: As the film opens on an Oklahoma farm during the depression, two simultaneous visitors literally hit the Wagoneer home: a ruinous dust storm and a convertible crazily driven by Red, the missus' brother. A roguish country-western musician, he has just been invited to audition for the Grand Ole Opry, his chance of a lifetime to become a success. However, this is way back in Nashville, Red clearly drives terribly, and he's broke and sick with tuberculosis to boot. Whit, 14, seeing his own chance of a lifetime to avoid "growing up to be a cotton picker all my life," begs Ma to let him go with Uncle Red as driver and protege. Thus begins a picaresque journey both hilarious and poignant.
Genre: Comedy, Drama, Music
Director(s): Clint Eastwood
Production: WARNER BROTHERS PICTURES
  1 nomination.
 
IMDB:
6.6
Rotten Tomatoes:
93%
PG
Year:
1982
122 min
Website
71 Views


Take it on down to the house! Come on!

Hey, somebody's coming.

Company?

At a time like this?

It's Uncle Red!

Bubba!

Is he dead?

- Dead drunk.

- Bubba! What in the world!

Let's get him on up into the house.

Whit, you bring in his grip.

- Where's his grip?

- He don't have one. Just this guitar.

These are all the clothes he's got?

Where's he headed for

without any clothes?

Without even a toothbrush!

Nashville.

A letter fell out of his coat

while I was getting his clothes off.

I couldn't help but read

the first couple of lines.

It was from somebody asking him to come

and try out for the Grand Ole Opry.

The Grand Ole Opry?

But why didn't you say so sooner?

The letter, I really

shouldn't have read it.

You shouldn't have, but as long as you did,

you might have let us read it, too.

My God almighty! The Grand Ole Opry!

If Mama was only alive today to see

what's become of her son now.

On second thought,

maybe it's just as well.

Ruined.

All ruined.

Well, you've been wanting

to go out to California.

But we should have gone before now,

like I wanted to.

Now we don't have anything.

Every penny we had

was tied up in this crop.

Whit!

Howard!

Marjorie, come on!

We got lots of work to do.

Can I clean the car?

All right.

Hey! How the hell are you, Hoss?

Boy, put 'er there.

You're shooting up like a weed!

Thanks a lot for fixing that car.

Any serious damage?

The oil pan's leaking a little.

Is it serious? Can I make it to Nashville?

So long you don't let it run out of oil.

It's true, then?

You're gonna sing at the Grand Ole Opry?

I'm afraid it's just an audition.

If that car gets me there in one piece.

It seems to have a mind of its own

some of the time.

I wish your daddy would buy some

ready-made cigarettes.

Get me my guitar.

Dust-cutter.

Real panther piss.

- Here, you want some?

- No.

- The alcohol will kill the germs.

- It ain't that.

It's Mama. If she knew I took

a drink of whiskey, she'd have a hissy.

Well, what she don't know won't hurt her.

If you feel like getting up,

come have some eggs and biscuits...

and we'll get this bed made up.

You, come on, now. Let him get dressed.

Hoss?

Thanks again and mum's the word on this.

Of course.

Here's to us ducks,

because we don't give a quack.

If it don't rain, we'll walk.

Bubba! Don't drive so blamed fast.

We got plenty of time.

Bubba, be careful!

What're you trying to do, kill us all?

Can't you drive no better than that?

I ain't exactly at my best

when I got a fire under my ass.

You've been drinking, that's what it is.

Why don't you let somebody else drive?

I suppose you could drive better?

I'm sure any of us could.

Even Whit could drive better than that.

- That true, Hoss?

- Probably.

You wanna try?

Sure. Papa sometimes lets me

drive the truck.

All right, slide on over.

Bubba, why don't you let Virgil drive?

Hoss claims he can drive as good as me...

by God, I believe he can.

Come on, just slide on in there.

Now, we just ease right on out.

That's the way. Let the clutch out easy.

- Easy on the clutch.

- I know.

What do you say, folks?

Ain't Hoss doing a hell of a job driving?

I put every penny we had into that crop.

Borrowed all I could.

Can't think of anyplace to steal it...

and I'm not gonna beg. Ain't in me to beg.

There's a fellow over in Meeker...

who says he bought machinery and stock.

He'll give you a few cents on the dollar

for everything you got.

Maybe get $100.

That ain't gonna get

us out to California...

keep us in grub till we find a job.

Well, I could match you for the rest.

You? You ain't...

I thought you said

you didn't have any money.

You kidding?

I got money 10 miles up a bull's ass.

Of course, I gotta find

that bull to get it.

I was thinking I'd send it to you

when I got to Nashville.

- How you gonna get to Nashville?

- Tennessee.

I was born in Tennessee.

Cainsville, just north of Murfreesboro.

Came to Oklahoma when I was 18,

riding an old mule...

- and made the Run into Cherokee Strip.

- How about some more coffee?

That was in September 1893.

September 16th, to be exact.

- There was maybe...

- Whit, get on into bed.

I wanna hear Grandpa tell about the Run.

People in hell be wanting ice-water.

Now get into bed like the others.

Please, can't I stay and hear Grandpa

tell about the Run?

Did you hear what I said, boy?

Get into bed!

Uncle Red? Tomorrow,

could I play your guitar?

Now!

Looks like you're raising

a musician there, sis.

Maybe I should take him

to Nashville with me.

That's if I can get enough money

to get there.

I could give you maybe $30.

That's very nice, Mr. Wagoner,

but you'll need it to get to California.

Ain't going to California.

Too old for that. I've been thinking.

- I wanna go home.

- Home?

Why, your home is with us, Grandpa.

I mean Tennessee.

Ain't been back there for 45 years.

Was born there,

and that's where I wanna die.

I can give you maybe $30.

Can you drive a car?

Never learned how...

and I'm too old to start now.

Was always good with mules, though.

Rode one from Tennessee,

in fact, back in 1893.

- That was...

- How about some more coffee?

Pa?

No, thanks.

I'd better go to bed.

God damn it, either tune that thing,

or stop playing it!

I don't know how.

Bring it on in here!

Give me that.

I'll show you how to tune this thing

only one time...

so you will pay attention, you hear?

You hold this "E" string down here

at the fifth fret.

What're you staring at?

Is there something peculiar about

the way I look?

Get out of here! Standing around here,

staring at me like I'm a freak!

Get out of here! Beat it!

Get away from me.

Listen, honey, it's not your fault.

It's the sickness

that makes him talk like that.

You can't blame him.

It's not his fault, either.

You can't blame him no more than you

could blame a cripple man for hobbling.

- You understand?

- I guess so.

He's only human.

Come on, now.

I'm gonna fix him something to eat,

and I want you to take it in to him.

Me? What if he don't want it?

You tell him he'd better eat it...

or I'll go in there

and shove it down his throat.

She said that, did she?

Well, I guess, in that case I'd better try.

Look, Hoss.

Don't you go paying attention to me

when I get like this.

It's the damn fever.

When it comes on, it makes me snappish

as a pair of sheep shears.

That's okay.

Get that guitar.

You play it, I'll show you how to tune it.

Hold the "E" string down

on the fifth fret right there at the top.

That's the way.

Play the "E" string

and the "A" string open.

Now, listen.

The only reason we're letting you go is...

I want you to keep him out of trouble,

if you can.

Don't let him drink while he's driving...

Listen now.

You have to promise me

you won't go in that honkytonk, you hear?

- But I wanted to hear Uncle Red sing!

- You'll just have to listen from outside.

You have to promise me that,

or I won't let you go.

All right. You'd think I was a little kid,

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Clancy Carlile

Clancy Carlile (January 18, 1930 – June 4, 1998) was an American novelist and screenwriter of Cherokee descent. He is perhaps best known for his 1980 novel Honkytonk Man, made into a film by Clint Eastwood. more…

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