It
has been forty-eight years since pop culture addressed the trials and travails
of electrical linemen. Frankly, we should have waited longer. Glen Campbell’s
classic pop song “Wichita Lineman” has not lost any of its potency, whereas this
film is a dud. It is true, linesmen do incredibly dangerous work just to keep
our Xboxes humming along. Just in case we forget, viewers will be constantly reminded
of that grim fact by the cornball dialogue of David Hackl’s Life on the Line (trailer here), which opens today
in New York.
Beau
Ginner used to be a one of the few slackers working on the lines, but he got
serious when his brother was killed by lightning fixing his slap-dash job. But
wait, it gets worse—his sister-in-law also dies in a car crash while rushing to
the hospital that fateful rainy night. Ginner suddenly gets serious when forced
to raise his niece Bailey on his own.
When
Hackl Flashes forward ten or fifteen minutes, Ginner is now a foreman, who is
determined to send the forgiving Bailey to college, but she has her own reasons
for staying in town. They involve her dopey boyfriend Duncan, whom Ginner can’t
stand, even though he just hired on as a lineman on Ginner’s crew. They will
have their work cut out for them. The grid is wearing thin and the utility
execs are constantly cutting corners, while a freak storm is brewing on the
horizon, as we can tell from the handy countdown clock Hackl provides.
Nobody
wants to belittle the dedication of our nation’s linemen. After all, it is the “fourth
most dangerous job in the United States,” as Ginner tells us whenever he slips
in encyclopedia mode. However, this would have made a better History Channel reality
TV show than a narrative feature. Words like manipulative do not sufficiently describe
its melodramatic excesses. However, the maudlin denouement collapses into one
long fundraising video for the Fallen Linemen non-profit. It is surely a worthy
cause, but lets just say watching the cast visit the Linemen memorial does not
resonate as deeply as the ending of Schindler’s
List.
To
be fair, John Travolta can still connect with his blue-collar roots. As Ginner,
he provides the film a dignified anchor. In contrast, porcelain ice queen Kate
Bosworth looks as out of place as Bailey Ginner as Queen Elizabeth at a monster
truck rally. Poor Gil Bellows just looks ridiculous playing Ginner’s best bud
in what looks like a Unabomber beard. Devon Sawa (cast as Duncan) looks bizarrely
similar to two other actors, which is problematic, considering one is a suicidal
Iraq veteran lineman and the other is a psycho stalking his wife.
As
soon as the opening credits roll, we are waiting the film to play “Wichita
Lineman,” because how could it not? Instead, it serves up an embarrassingly
cheesy duet, featuring Darius Rucker (formerly of Hootie & the Blowfish)
and British country singer Fiona Culley that sounds like a deliberate attempt
to discredit the power ballad. Maybe we
would remember the film more fondly if it had not assaulted us with such
bombastic treacle.
