Walk Hard

Walk Hard; The Dewey Cox Story, with an agreeable John C. Reilly in the lead, comes with good news and bad news. There's a couple of killer songs recorded in the genre of the times - late 50s rockabilly and 60s country pop - and you leave the theater with the tunes running through your mind. That's the good news.
The bad news is that Walk Hard tries too hard to be funny, like Marx Bros. funny, like Airplane funny, and falls flat on its face. The film should be called the Nashville Penis movie it tries so hard. Imagine a coupe of flaccid penis shots a la Borat in a mildly amusing biopic about a country singer who becomes famous to atone for a horrible childhood trauma. While producer and co-writer Judd Apatow has been on a roll with a couple of comic classics recently (Superbad, Knocked Up) the work on display here doesn't equal those kinds of kudos.
You'll chuckle and you might tap your toes, but you'll be arching your eyebrows at the sophomoric wit long before the film ends.