Screen Gem

Making beautiful music together: Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon as Johnny Cash and June Carter in Walk the Line. Photo Suzanne Tenner. Courtesy Twentieth Century Fox.

There’s a word that’s used to describe many of Reese Witherspoon’s roles. That word is “plucky.” Whether it’s Tracy Flick in Election, Elle Woods in Legally Blonde or the archetypal Becky Sharp in Vanity Fair, the 29-year-old actor has a nose for playing spirited gals. Being known as a plucky actor is surely preferable to being known as a talentless hack, but all the same, the former often feels like a backhanded diss.

Witherspoon’s so-called pluck doesn’t capture her full breadth as a thespian. The fact is, she is one of mainstream cinema’s most versatile and consistently engaging performers. There’s no better proof than her portrayal of June Carter Cash in the Johnny Cash biopic Walk the Line, which is not only tremendously assured, but the most enjoyable facet of the film.

Born in Tennessee and weaned on country music, Witherspoon plays June Carter as if she’d been a beloved aunt, balancing the singer’s good-natured sass and wholesome sensuality with the Christian rectitude that governed the way she lived — and ultimately brought wayward Johnny into line. (Witherspoon also does a credible job of recapturing Carter’s squeaky singing voice.) The actor’s poise is even more evident when measured against her co-star, Joaquin Phoenix, who often strains to manage all of Cash’s idiosyncrasies (his rumbling voice, his stiff comportment, his brooding presence). Not only is Witherspoon’s triumphant turn in Walk the Line her best chance for a long-overdue Oscar but it illuminates one of the most unconventional careers in Hollywood.

Looking at Witherspoon’s CV, it’s clear that even from the outset, she was not going to forge a predictable trail. For one, she steered clear of the most obvious vehicle for any comely teen actor: the teen movie. While many good actors have emerged from such sophomoric soap operas with their integrity reasonably intact (see: Parker Posey, half the cast of Fast Times at Ridgemont High), it says something about Witherspoon’s resolve that she never underwent the cinematic equivalent of hazing.

It's lonely vying for the top: Witherspoon as Tracy Flick in Election. Courtesy Paramount Pictures.

Her breakout role, however, was as the merciless Tracy Flick in Alexander Payne’s Election (1999). Flick is the obvious frontrunner for school president at George Washington Carver High School in Omaha, Nebraska; irked by her ambition and off-putting conceit, a teacher named McAllister (Matthew Broderick) resolves to fix the election in her disfavour. Witherspoon begins the movie as a cheery, if tightly wound brainiac; once she twigs McAllister’s machinations, Witherspoon exposes the predatory wolf in the sheep suit. A strong believer in social Darwinism (“It’s like my mom says, ‘The weak are always trying to sabotage the strong’”), Tracy soon resorts to blackmail to assure the proper election result.

Witherspoon’s great ability is turning cardboard “types” — the ditzy blonde, the pedantic overachiever, the white-trash hellion — into genuine people. She has more than range; she understands that even a ruthless individual has a gentle side, that even a priggish do-gooder may be harbouring rage. To appreciate Witherspoon’s finesse, just try imagining any of her contemporaries in the same roles. Kirsten Dunst as Tracy Flick? Brittany Murphy? Julia Stiles? (1. Too cloying. 2. Too unhinged. 3. Too soporific.)

It’s unfair to judge an actress by the life she leads, but Witherspoon’s provides important insights into her attitude. She married young (hitching up with fellow actor Ryan Philippe in 1999, when she was just 23), thus averting the innuendo that taints so many young careers. At a stage in her career when most starlets are kickboxing or having elective surgery to sustain the illusion of eternal youth, Witherspoon boldly deviated from the script: she had kids. In fact, she’s been remarkably up-front about her refusal to play the sex kitten. She recently told Vanity Fair magazine that she will no longer be doing bikini scenes of the kind she did in Legally Blonde and Cruel Intentions. “I have cellulite,” she says. “I have stretch marks.”

What other person would have the temerity to make such an admission? Only one: Tracy Flick.

Walk the Line is in theatres now.

Andre Mayer writes about the arts for CBC.ca.

CBC does not endorse and is not responsible for the content of external sites - links will open in new window.