"Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story"

Directed by: Jake Kasdan
Starring: John C. Reilly, Jenna
Fischer, Raymond J. Barry,
Margo Martindale
MPAA rating: R (for adult
language, drug use, sexual con
tent, graphic nudity)
Running time: 97 min.
Best suited for: The lowbrow
funster (especially those musi
cally inclined)
Least suited for: Highbrow
parody lovers

"Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story" is, for the most part, a parody of recent musical biopics "Walk the Line" and "Ray," with a loose chronology of rock 'n' roll (Elvis, Dylan, The Beatles, disco, rap) thrown in for good measure. Dewey Cox is a buffoon version of Johnny Cash, and the tale is his life of music, women, drugs, worship, decline, atonement and more music.

"Walk Hard" could have easily been a throwaway about a country bumpkin in a sane world (anyone remember David Spade in "Joe Dirt"?), but "Walk Hard" is decidedly A-list spoof material. Co-written and produced by Judd Apatow, the talent behind "The 40-Year-Old Virgin," "Knocked Up" and "Superbad," the film could be expected to involve a certain amount of cleverness.

And "Walk Hard" is clever. Mostly.

As a parody of rock 'n' roll, it moves quickly and fluidly through a generation of Top 40 sound bites. It is a musical, after all (not a "Dreamgirls" type musical, more of a "Ray" musical), and both the songs and the people who sing them maintain a dynamic, rhythmic flair. John C. Reilly, who plays the naive, fasttrackin' hillbilly with a guitar, is one of those actors who can do it all. Think of Gene Hackman during his "The Conversation," "The French Connection," "Superman" days. That kind of diversity. Reilly projects an earnest, doe-eyed sincerity in the role that helps pull the whole thing off. And, yes, Mr. Reilly can sing. One of the highlights of the musical "Chicago" was his haunting solo rendition of "Mr. Cellophane."

And it's the music of "Walk Hard" itself, I believe, that gives the film much of its clout. The numbers are clever, catchy, generationally apt and, as parody goes, they parody nicely. Listening to Dewey spoof a Bob Dylan protest song is a hoot.

The movie is funny, mostly. The first act is largely flawless, the laughs fast and furious. Dewey accidentally cuts his brother in half with a machete- and it's funny. Really. But because the film is on a direct path, it becomes somewhat limited in scope. A few gags fall flat. And a few performances are, by necessity it seems, one-dimensional. On the other hand, there are some beautiful sight gags- Dewey in India with The Beatles, on a "Yellow Submarine"-inspired cartoon LSD trip, for instance.

Some needless nudity is thrown in. Now I'm not averse to nudity where nudity is, well, expected. "Boogie Nights," for instance, would have been a total loss without nudity. But in "Dewey Cox," one gets the feeling that the filmmakers thought, what's lacking in this biopic spoof? We have drugs and we have rock 'n' roll. What's left? The film is rated R, by the way, so perhaps the filmmakers decided, hey, why not?

What's left is, one supposes, a matter of personal taste. Like your gags filled with sexual innuendo, your laughs driven by liberal use of illegal substances? Then "Dewey Cox" will float your musical boat. The "Borat" crowd should have a ball.

For the more refined taste, might I suggest this season's yin to Dewey Cox's yang. That would be Johnny Depp playing (and singing) the Demon Barber of Fleet Street in "Sweeny Todd." Because in America, one can freely exchange nudity for bloodshed and feel good about it. Even sing about it!