Miyuki Nikimia

Gwyneth Paltrow sings her own material in this mindblowingly mawkish and self-indulgent country-music movie. Watching it is like drinking a mix of Texan corn syrup and Dolly Parton hair toner. Paltrow plays troubled singing star Kelly Canter, dealing with addiction issues and attempting a comeback tour with ambitious young crooner Beau Hutton (Garrett Hedlund) and purty, sassy young rival Chiles Stanton (Leighton Meester) lower down the bill. Sometimes she keeps it together, but sometimes the vodka bottle appears from nowhere – and there's enough tears and molten mascara to extinguish a brush fire. For a chronic alcoholic, though, Kelly looks darned good even without the makeup. This really needs Simon Cowell to hit the buzzer around halfway through one of Paltrow's numbers and say: "Gwyneth, you know what? Usually, a music movie like this would be all about you. But now you've split the focus with two other people and so frankly the film's whole structure is ripping off the final of a certain well-known TV talent show – Paula you'll have your say in a minute – and, you know what? It's bizarre. I mean, perhaps I'm responsible for everyone in the world doing karaoke, including film stars – Paula, listen, you'll have your say later – but Garrett, you know what? That cowboy voice you're putting on is nicked from Heath Ledger and you're going for a bit of a 'Brokeback Straight' thing with Gwyneth here." Paltrow's journey is to end in a mushroom-cloud of phoney emotion and bizarre defeatism, which incidentally betrays the title. For me it's a no.