A film whose time has come. Willie Nelson and Kris Kristofferson essentially play themselves as a songwriter and a cock-of-the-walk country god, and do it perfectly. The plot concerns Willie's character, Doc Jenkins, attempting to liberate himself from a contract he committed to when he was younger, drunker and a little less immortal. The supporting players are top of the line aces, including a surly Rip Torn and the always-great Melinda Dillon. Lesley Ann Warren is the new singer who Doc hitches his stars to, and she's convincing enough. The dialogue is fast, funny and, I suspect, captures the inside angle of the Music Business to a tee. One of the most unheralded great, little movies of all time. A better version of all those other syrupy, sentimental inside music movies.

In Hollywood vernacular this would be the quintessential sleeper: a small gem straight out of left field forced to look after itself in a market geared more toward largely impersonal blockbusters. It isn't necessary to be a fan of country-western music to enjoy the film: a disarming comic fable about one man's clever attempt to buck the system, represented here by the music industry. The movie works (in part) because of its oblique, slightly skewed narrative style, courtesy of Bud Shrake's elliptical screenplay and director Alan Rudolph's eye for offhand detail. Some of the Southern accents are thick enough to almost require subtitles, but the film is a true original, with a photogenic performance by Willie Nelson as the roguish title character.

Songwriter is a rollicking country comedy, not exactly what you'd expect from Alan Rudolph. Willie Nelson is wonderful in this picture, an actor of considerable great subtlety as well as the great singer you already knew he was. Rip Torn is hilariously hammy. If you have any fondness for the country (especially the Texas country) millieu, this is one to check out.