This is an oddly provocative title for a film that pretty much just sits unamused like an exhausted nanny tending to unruly children. Dreamin’ Wild (and don’t you dare lose the apostrophe) is the biographical story of how fate is more fickle than you can imagine. The problem is that the subject is equally fickle and the dream he sought decades ago is not the same dream he seeks now.
Hence, we have an entire movie about a man depressed about striking it big. Color me unimpressed.
Donnie Emerson (Noah Jupe young, Casey Affleck old) had the talent to become a rock star. He even made some headway – he and his brother Joe (Jack Dylan Grazer young, Walton Goggins old; both with terrible moustaches) were able to put together an album which included a ridiculous sequined jumpsuit photo shoot and a font that should have been deep-sixed in the 70s (along with the jumpsuits). That was as far as Donnie got. His El Lay excursion turned out to be an expensive misfire.
Anywhere between twenty-five and ninety years later, a genuine producer noticed “Dreamin’ Wild” and decided to re-master and re-release the album. This is the most consequential moment in the film and it happens three minutes in. I kid you not.
It’s hard to explain the controversy here. Donnie is, by all accounts, a failure. He and his wife (Zooey Deschanel) run a music studio that has no clients and produces nothing of value. What he owns in life comes down to the fact that his father (Beau Bridges) once owned 1,700 acres of land. In 2011, he owns 65. 
Guess why. By all accounts, the re-release and royalties from Dreamin’ Wild might just be able to restore Donnie’s dignity and his father’s small fortune.
But Donnie is still unhappy. He spends the entire movie unhappy. Huh, your life is better than it was five minutes ago and yet you’re still bitching about stuff. I think that’s the MAGA credo, which is probably why I felt so little for our “hero.” For a guy whose life blows, you still managed to own a house, marry Zooey Deschanel, and raise two children. We should all suck so well.
A film like this is often saved by the music. I mean once we discover how talented Donnie is, perhaps we will understand why he never grew out of his teen angst. Not only can I not name a single song from the film, I can’t even tell you that I was enjoying any given song while it was happening. By the time Beau Bridges starts speechifyin’, I realized too late that the heavy-handed lectures were upon me. Oh God, this film is gonna spout world-weary “wisdom” at me – for a guy who just got his big break. Spare me.
At one point in this narrative, I wished this were a horror film. Maybe a dead body or two could spice this thing up. Our protagonist ponders like it’s an Olympic sport then walks around with an emo cloud necklace while dressing like a substitute lumberjack. I hate this movie more every time I think about it. I don’t care who the real-life Emerson brothers are; I’m just glad I’ve not been subjected to their music until now.
Two brothers from the disco era
Proved quite an unlucky pair-a
But along came fate
Thirty years too late
And if the story were better, I’d care-a
Rated PG, 111 Minutes
Director: Bill Pohlad
Writer: Steven Kurutz, Bill Pohlad
Genre: Fate has a sense of humor
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: People who have a tolerance for white people whining
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: Plot points … anyone? Anyone?
