When Jim Szalapski’s Heartworn Highways first appeared 45 years ago, the term Americana wasn't in common parlance, though it had been kicking around for decades. Nowadays it might describe his 1976 introduction to a Nashville scene in which artists wrote their own material and played on each other's records. They also indulged in a prodigious amount of smoking, drinking, swearing, and roughhousing, making for a lively, loving, and potentially self-destructive scene.
They were seen as outlaws, though most would experience some degree of commercial success, especially singer and fiddle player Charlie Daniels. Other notable performers included Steve Earle and Townes Van Zandt, after whom Steve would name his son, musician Justin Townes Earle. By profiling a mix of veteran performers and their musical descendants, Wayne Price has fashioned Heartworn Highways Revisited as an homage.
He adheres to Szalapski's fly-on-the-wall template by capturing artists on stage, in the studio, and around the campfire, providing a feel for the relaxed pace of their lives and the interconnectedness that defines it. (There's also a lot of smoking and drinking, but not so much swearing or roughhousing.)
He concentrates on younger artists, from well-known performers like Michael Trent and Cary Ann Hearst of Shovels & Rope and John McCauley of Deer Tick to up-and-comers like Josh Hedley and Andrew Combs. Returning performers include Guy Clark, Steve Young, and David Allen Coe. Though Steve Earle doesn't make an appearance, his son sings "Am I That Lonely Tonight?" a heart-on-sleeve song about their difficult relationship.
At the time of its 2017 release, Price dedicated his film to Clark and Young, who passed away in 2016. Sadly, Justin Townes Earle, just 38, would follow suit in 2020. Since Price doesn't identify the performers until the end credits, prior familiarity with at least a few of them might prove helpful. If the unvarnished style of their music unites them, they also cover each other's material. Josh Hedley, for instance, covers Guy Clark's autobiographical "L.A. Freeway."
In addition to the performances, artists talk about their lives, but more details would have been ideal. Bobby Bare Jr., for instance, sings "Visit Me in Music City," and talks about the scene, but there's no mention of his father, Bobby Bare, an esteemed member of the Grand Ole Opry and the Country Music Hall of Fame—though Jonny Fritz makes certain to note that he and Coe are cousins.
Others, like Nikki Lane, perform but don't get the opportunity to say anything. It's clearly part of Price's unobtrusive, observational approach, but some artists get short shrift as a result. Fortunately, the director's enthusiastic commentary track fills in a few blanks, like the reason for Clark's painful-looking black eye (he slipped on a dry-cleaning bag). If the first Heartworn Highways proves more essential, there's much to recommend this follow-up as a sort of chaser or epilogue. Recommended. Aud: P.