Forty years ago, country music, once called "the rednecks' blues", crossed over into the mainstream of popular music, and in 1975, Nashville, Robert Altman's satirical contribution to the nation's bicentennial celebrations, established the archetypes that underlie all country movies. They're here in Shana Feste's cliche-ridden movie – the major star brought low by drugs and alcohol and trying to make a comeback (Gwyneth Paltrow); the difficult husband torn between exasperation, jealousy and the need to keep his partner and meal ticket working (Tim McGraw); the up-and-coming young singer exploiting everyone around her to further her career (Leighton Meester); the kindly musician with a generous heart who's fighting to preserve the essential integrity of his work in the face of crass commercialism (Garrett Hedlund).

The movie has its moments, but the characters are fuzzy around the edges, Paltrow is only intermittently convincing (compare her, for instance, with Ronee Blakley in Nashville) and only Hedlund is a true star.