One little-discussed consequence of being a tender, considerate husband is having to watch the tripe the subject of that tender consideration decides to watch.
Last night that tripe was Country Strong, a lame story of recovery and relapse into alcoholism and drugs for a country singer. Not a patch on Jeff Bridges in Crazy Heart, the novelty of Gwyneth Paltrow's singing voice quickly died under the weight of schmaltz and sugar - an apparently unavoidable pair of supporting elements in this film.
It was strange - although I wasn't anxious to hear him - the only recognized country singer in the film was Tim McGraw, and he didn't sing a note.
Perhaps it was inevitable that a film about possibly the dullest and least original music genre turned out to be dull and unoriginal.
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