Blaze (2018)

Directed by: Ethan Hawke | 128 minutes | drama | Actors: Ben Dickey, Alia Shawkat, Charlie Sexton, Josh Hamilton, Kris Kristofferson, Richard Linklater, Sam Rockwell, Steve Zahn, Gurf Morlix, Ethan Hawke, Alynda Lee Segarra, Sybil Rosen, Jonathan Marc Sherman, Jean Carlot

Blaze Foley (1949-1989) was a ‘musicians musician’ – especially loved by musicians but unknown to the general public; he was immortalized by Lucinda Williams, among others. Williams’ beautiful ‘Drunken Angel’, which led director Ethan Hawke to Foley’s trail, returns as a cover song during the end credits of ‘Blaze’. Women apparently have a soft spot for men with a ‘wet’ heart, if you can describe it that way. Not the conviction of yours truly, it is said out loud by the female lead in one of the first scenes.

Depth is welcome, because the build-up of ‘Blaze’ is more focused on atmospheric drawing than dramatic tension. The atmosphere is immediately good in this respectful depiction of the adult life of the Texas outlaw musician. Sex in the wild, drinking and howling at the moon: it’s not that hard to make something out of it. However, a lot is explained in words: there is a love story against the background of the creative existence (Foley’s partner Sybil is an actress), but something grinds between romantic lovemaking and endless talking in a static documentary setting.

We think in real life too, and to that extent ‘Blaze’ is sincere. However, the protagonists lead an outlaw existence in which the artistic stimulus is central. This is dampened by booze, and is easier for men to sustain than for women, for whom love would mean ‘absolute devotion’. “Men still have their jobs,” says beloved Sybil (Alia Shawkat) in the aforementioned scene, where she practices an acting script. Perhaps that is a good form to convey this message, because as a belief it can be called very old-fashioned.

But Sybil was Blaze’s muse, and the artist-muse relationship is something special in the love experience – detached from reality, and in a sense a distillate of it; seductive but ultimately intangible, a form of mutual one-way traffic. As said: that can only be muted with booze, especially if you grew up with an alcoholic parent like Foley (Ben Dickey). Does that make a character interesting? We have a hard time with it, because Foley left too little unique behind. He is above all an archetype of the alcoholic musician.