In a film about a creative person and their work, the expected formula is this. There
is a dream, either deeply held or slowly awakened to. There is a mentor, someone who opens the
way for the artist. And there’s struggles, setbacks and obstacles on the way to realising
that dream. But the dream is realised; they leap over the stage, take their bow, and they
make it. Monomyth 101, applied to making art.
Wild Rose, interpreted as a ‘making it’ creative story, fits the bill. Rose-Lynn starts
at rock bottom, leaving prison in the opening minutes. She reunites with her kids, her mother
and her lover. She reclaims her shoebox of dreams, hidden under her bed. She goes back
to her old gigging spot to get the band back together. All the while, she’s aimed straight
at Nashville- the ultimate end goal for an aspiring country-western singer.
You taking the piss? No. Not at all, why do you say that?
Country and western... nah, it's just country.
Right. A country singer. Got it.
Kicked out of the club for bad behaviour, Rose-Lynn takes a quiet cleaning job and strikes
up an unlikely friendship with her middle class employer. This is that mentor I was
talking about; a concerned but capable voice that guides the creative towards their goal.
With increased access, Rose-Lynn meets country royalty, gets a great opportunity, messes
it up, but through reconciling with her mum makes it to Nashville anyway.
That’s the end of the third act. Family drama- resolved. Dream- achieved. Movie done,
roll credits.
Except, that isn’t it.
Throughout Wild Rose, the idea of ‘making it’ is interrogated through Rose-Lynn’s
interactions with others. On a trip to London, she gets drunk on the train and loses her
bag, jeopardising her appointment. She meets with legendary country DJ Whispering Bob Harris,
in what might be my favourite cameo of the year, and they talk about her work. He’s
surprised she doesn’t write her own stuff.
In these encounters, Rose-Lynn’s preconceptions and misconceptions about success, and her
own personal issues, provide obstacles to her achieving her dream. This is where Wild
Rose doesn’t just tell a story of an artist making it and achieving their dreams, but
interrogates exactly what we think ‘making it’ is. Rose-Lynn seems to be under the
impression that ‘making it’ will make things easy, and is seeking to follow in the
footsteps of an established path instead of making her own. She thinks if she can just
get to Nashville, everything else will fall into place; but there’s a lot of work to
do underneath.
When Rose-Lynn gets to Nashville, she attends the Ryman auditorium, a famous venue, and
sneaks onstage to sing. It’s a beautiful moment that totally transports the audience
inside Rose-Lynn's fantasy, aided by star Jessie Buckley's wonderful voice, which lends
depth and passion to Rose-Lynn's dream. But as the security guard remarks, ‘you would
not believe how many people do that'.
Rose-Lynn doesn’t stay in Nashville as long as planned. She heads home, and buckles down
to the real task of making it- creating her own art, speaking with her own voice. Writer
Nicole Taylor is drawing on her own experience here; she wrote Wild Rose while working a
job she didn’t like in Glasgow and listening to a lot of country music. And despite Wild
Rose being her first project, it took years to come to fruition, during which time she
worked on other projects to further her career and artistic voice.
There's a time jump at the end of the film, and in its last moments we can see that Rose-Lynn
has made it. She’s on stage, although in Glasgow, not in Nashville. She’s singing
soulful music, but it’s her own. She’s made it her own way, without following an
established path; much like Wild Rose’s deviation from the accepted plot of creative
movies. It's a powerful message that resonates with real experiences of people who have tried
to achieve their dreams, and forgoes a more conventional, Hollywoodized route. And that’s
just a single reason why I think Wild Rose is one of the best films of 2019.