TV Reviews : Shepherd Shepherds Riveting ‘Memphis’

It’s rare that a television movie reflects a genuine voice--in this case, Southern--and rarer still when a squalid kidnaping caper is magnified by a critical time and place in contemporary history.

“Memphis,” set in the redneck, strife-ridden South of 1957, is a distinctive achievement for Cybill Shepherd, who co-produced, co-stars and wrote the first draft (in a rich adaptation of Southern historian Shelby Foote’s novel, “September, September”).

Subsequently co-written by Susan Rhinehart and Shepherd’s “Last Picture Show” pal Larry McMurtry, shot in Shepherd’s hometown of Memphis and artfully helmed by French-Canadian Yves Simoneau in his American directing debut, this fictional tale of white drifters who abduct a little black boy is riveting from start to finish (it shows three times on the TNT cable channel tonight, at 5, 7 and 9).

The production heralds TNT, after a string of largely ordinary movies, as a creative player and risk-taker and solidifies the image of the adventuresome production company, Propaganda Films (“Wild at Heart,” “Truth or Dare,” “Twin Peaks”).

“Memphis” is compelling for two reasons: for wedding a story of white trash and their mundane crime to a keenly felt background of forced school integration in a rapidly changing South, and for its unusual, deceptively mesmerizing style.

The trio of kidnapers are exceptionally vivid--John Laughlin’s lusting young stud, J.E. Freeman’s older, mysterious accomplice and Shepherd’s ne’er-do-well floozy. They exist in the reckless limbo and dilapidated world of the movie “Bonnie and Clyde,” and it’s a hoot to see Shepherd and Laughlin/Freeman materialize as uncanny playbacks of Faye Dunaway and Warren Beatty.

The drama veers in a surprising direction when Shepherd’s sexually avaricious hanger-on develops a tender and caring affection for the kidnaped boy (Martin Gardner), who, in turn, gradually responds to her like a son in scenes that are never maudlin. Meanwhile, the ransom pickup, shot in Memphis’ old railroad station, hurtles the story to its gripping conclusion.

The director’s pacing has a tremulous Faulknerian resonance and stillness, and the fact that lawmen don’t play any important role is also refreshing. As a bonus, a delightful scene of the kidnapers watching the 1957 Miss America TV show, with Burt Parks and his prim, all-WASP contestants mouthing inanities, hilariously and symbolically underscores the culture.