Heartland

by Hope Madden

Jessica Chastain as a foul mouthed, quick tempered, hard drinking, cut your finger off as soon as look at you, disgraced country singer back in Nashville to shove that boot in somebody’s Wranglers?

OK.

Shana Fest writes and directs Heartland, Netflix’s new action/thriller with Chastain as Misty Jones. Misty’s niece Charlie (Carter Faith) followed in her footsteps, making a name for herself as a singer/songwriter in Nashville. But nobody’s heard from Charlie in five days, and Misty knows something’s up.

Heartland is kind of the junk drawer of action thrillers. Loads of stuff in there, most of it doesn’t really belong anywhere in particular, a lot of it should have been thrown out. There are red herrings, clues that go nowhere, evidence that makes little sense, revelations and contrivances and forced emotional climaxes.

Still, it is undeniably fun to see Chastain wince with contempt, flip the bird, slash some tires, and again, do not get your fingers near this woman.

It’s been an interesting year for the Oscar winner, classing up horror (Other Mommy), erotic thriller (Dreams), and now action-thriller. She seems to be seeking complicated, often unlikeable characters who struggle with the compromises life offers them. Thanks to Chastain’s talent, each of the characters has been an exceptional trainwreck, mesmerizing to watch.

Is she better than these films? Lord, yes. But all three are watchable, some even genuinely enjoyable, because she’s in them. Plus, Chastain can sing.

Enjoying country music will certainly elevate Heartland for some viewers. Fest’s visuals and storyline pit a Kentucky bourbon-soaked old school country against the blonde extensions and sparkle of the contemporary sound. She doesn’t necessarily take sides, rather reinforcing a “darker side of fame” theme that transcends generations.

Heartland is not a great movie. Its strengths are its lead and Fest’s comfort in the NashVegas environment. The result is a tawdry mess, but Chastain is a hoot.