By Jonathan Monovich.
Chips away at complex meaning and eventually strikes it, despite the occasional distracting surrealism.”
Country Gold begins in a reverse Wizard of Oz fashion, transitioning from color to black-and-white. The story starts with Troyal Brux (Mickey Reece), a playful take on Garth Brooks, professing his idolization of country legend George Jones (Ben Hall) during a 1990s television interview. When asked what he would say to Jones if he were watching, Brux ponders the question while intensely staring at the center of the screen. The frame of the color television then shifts to a now black-and-white Brux becoming increasingly frustrated while filming a commercial. The amusing opening credit sequence foreshadows the comedic undertones that trail. What follows is a surreal exploration of an imaginary changing-of-the-guards ceremony between different generations of country musicians.
Brux’s wife compares their family’s lifestyle to a Norman Rockwell painting, yet it is all but that. Brux’s children have a mysteriously sinister quality and their voices are deeply distorted. After receiving an invitation from George Jones to visit him in Nashville, Brux also faces temptations that would be nowhere to be seen in the picture perfect world of Rockwell. The film’s cinematography is very deliberate in its use of black-and-white, particularly during the journey to Nashville. Brux’s checkerboard pattern shirt paired with a black cowboy hat contrast with the white upholstery of a private jet and the black leather seats of his limousine. Upon arrival, Jones and Brux converse in a dimly lit restaurant with white tablecloths.
The two argue how a steak should be prepared in what is one of the standout scenes of the film. After hearing Jones’ take on the topic, you will not be able to disassociate his remarks the next time asked “how would you like that cooked” at a restaurant. As the meal progresses, Jones reveals the reason he requested Brux to visit. The answer: cryonics. Before freezing himself the following day, Jones affirms he would like to see what the future of country looks like as he reluctantly recognizes that it is Brux.
From this point forward, Brux engages in Jones’ incredibly awkward last hoorah. The two travel to a dive bar in what proceeds to be a pathetic get-together with Jones’ peculiar pals. Brux obliges at first out of respect, but the night soon becomes more and more characterized by debauchery. Like a phoenix, Jones’ flawed past is resurrected and foils Brux’s family man persona. What was hoped to be a dream visit with a hero ends up becoming a nightmarish reminder that fame is a curtain covering the hidden reality of another world.
Perfectly released alongside Showtime’s George and Tammy (2022-2023) miniseries, Country Gold serves as a reflection on the troubled lifestyle that Michael Shannon highlights in the series, in his portrayal of a younger version of the “possum” (Jones’ nickname).

Though writer/director/actor Reece’s motivation in exploring the psyche of these figures is not abundantly clear, his curiosity likely stems from sharing an Oklahoma birthplace with the real Brooks. It’s not necessarily surprising, though, given that Reece has exhibited his musical curiosity before with his similarly strange depiction of Elvis Presley in Alien (2017). With that being said, Reece’s growing oeuvre is not limited to these offbeat biopics; his most recent films, Agnes (2021) and Climate of the Hunter (2019), were highly-stylized indie horror flicks.
Reece, like many postmodern filmmakers, also uses a referential approach throughout Country Gold. The lighthearted use of homage adds to the film’s overall charm. While Country Gold may meander in its playful examination of the music that it seems to both commemorate and critique, for better or for worse, the representation of Jones is right that “the sky could fall and rivers could turn to blood, but there will always be country music.” All in all, Country Gold is a movie that chips away at complex meaning and eventually strikes it, despite the occasional distracting surrealism.
Country Gold clearly does not take itself too seriously, as evidenced by its flashbacks of Jones’ ridiculous “memories” of being a hitman and a secret agent, but there is a sense of sincerity in its recognition that country music’s appeal lies with the genre’s humanity in frequenting the blues. Reece doesn’t shy in presenting Jones’ darker days for he seems to conclude that they are inseparable from the soul of the man’s work.
Perhaps the most telling line of the film, whether ironic or not, is that “nobody forgets a true artist. They forget the theatrics, the glitz, and the glamour. They forget the sizzle but still hunger for the steak…. And nobody cares about music that’s got no substance or songs without a soul.”
Country Gold is now available to stream on Fandor.
Jonathan Monovich is a Chicago-based writer focusing on film analysis, history, and theory. His work has been featured in Film International, Film Matters, Bright Lights Film Journal, and PopMatters.