Accroche-toi Nashville

Dennis Quaid plays Travis Child a skirt-chasing (yet lovable) guy who is constantly sleeping with married women and getting in trouble with the law. His sister straight arrow Amanda (Kristy McNichol) tries to keep him out of trouble but can't do it. She tries to get policeman Conrad (Mark Hamill) to help her...but has Travis gone too far?

If you've heard the title song you basically know the outcome. This is a dull, totally predictable, by the numbers drama. I was one of the few people who actually paid money to see it in a theatre in 1981. I remember the snickers coming from the audience during the "dramatic" scenes...especially at the ending. The only thing that made this endurable where Quaid and McNichol. They effortlessly give out good performances and make this somewhat interesting. Also McNichol play a singer and she was a good singer so she belts out a few songs. Also, in case any one is interested, Quaid bares his butt in this one. Hamill is just terrible...but it's not entirely his fault. His character is badly underwritten and he's just there to provide a love interest for McNichol.

So...this is pretty bad story-wise but worth catching if you like Quaid or McNichol. Or you can just listen to the song and get virtually the entire movie in three minutes. Pretty much forgotten...and for good reason. I give it a 5.

I saw this film when it first came out in the early 1980s. I had a big crush on Kristy McNichol and just had to see this film. Somewhat an offbeat mixture of country humor and drama, The Night The Lights Went Off in Georgia starts off like a cornball comedy and ends up deadly serious.Kristy McNichol proved she could sing and was very good in "Baby Bye-Bye". Dennis Quaid was an up-coming star, and his rugged good looks, and boyish charm are backed up by his extremely well singing talents. Amazing that Quaid didn't become a country music singing star, I thought he was that good. Mark Hamill is pleasant as the love-struck cop, but it's an "ice-cream cone" performance. The late Sunny Johnson looked beautiful, and it's a real shame that this talented actress died so young.

Travis Child (Dennis Quaid) is a skirt-chasing hard-drinking country singer. His sister Amanda Child (Kristy McNichol) is his tough driven manager pushing to go to Nashville. They've been on the road for six months and always on the run from jealous boyfriends/husbands or general mayhem. They get separated. Amanda is stopped by deputy Conrad (Mark Hamill). Travis gets arrested after hitting a cop.

The plot isn't anything special. The production is relatively lower grade. The movie does have two very charismatic performances. Quaid is terrific and a solid singer. McNichol is wonderful as the spunky teen with definite edge. I love them both. The country singing is pretty catchy. The movie runs a little long but it has the fine performances and Luke Skywalker, too.

Yeah, it's cheesy. Dennis Quaid and Kristy McNichol sing, or try to. That just about says it all. But, I grew up watching this movie. It seems like it came on every summer, along with Kristy's other flicks: "Only When I Laugh" and "Little Darlings." I went to great lengths recently to buy the out-of-print video. Seeing it just takes me back. Great cinema? Uh, no. But good for a little nostalgia and fun cheesiness? Definitely.

After 1980's "Little Darlings" grossed some $40 million at the box office, everyone credited scene-stealer Kristy McNichol with its success; the teen actress then had the opportunity to do anything she wanted...and she chose this comedy-drama with country music. Why? Because she gets to sing, act sexy and tough, be soft, and do a drunk routine (which doesn't come off--she's one of the most unconvincing drunks ever). McNichol plays business-minded sis to brother Dennis Quaid, a hell-raising, skirt-chasing musician, but his scrapes with the law make Kristy turn to cop Mark Hamill for help. That's the whole plot, really. The picture is such a mess from a director's standpoint, I can imagine the editor (Anne Goursand) sitting at her cutting machine surrounded by reels of film going out of her mind. Pieces of it are energetic, McNichol is engaging, but the guys are colorless, the writing is pedestrian, and the ending is dopey instead of moving. The rather ungainly title is lifted from a 1972 hit song, which has been rewritten completely and rerecorded here. Why did they bother using it at all? ** from ****