A Fond Farewell to an Always Beloved Icon, Dolly Parton

 

The sad news of Dolly Parton’s death at 80 on August 25^th hit much harder than usual when hearing of a celebrity passing. Growing up in the 1970s and 1980s, I became a fan of Parton from early childhood, from the early solo country hits she wrote and sang (after her first success dueting with Porter Wagoner starting in the late 1960s) such as her first #1, “Joshua,” the poignant “Coat of Many Colors,” and two enduring smashes legend has Parton penned on the same day, “Jolene” and “I Will Always Love You,” written with Wagoner in mind after Parton inevitably moved on to wider acclaim and success as a solo artist. Another #1, “Love is Like a Butterfly,” served as the theme song to Parton’s television variety show, wherein her warmth and sincerity indicated a screen presence of singular appeal might be utilized in film. Late 1977 into 1978 witnessed wide musical crossover success from country to pop with the infectious “Here You Come Again,” which landed at #1 for five weeks on the Country charts before hitting #3 on the pop charts, followed by “Two Doors Down,” which also gained solid county and pop airplay.

                With Parton continuing to build her legacy in music late in the 1970s (“Heartbreaker,” “You’re the Only One”), a major leap to superstardom awaited with the new decade. Jane Fonda had caught Parton on television and felt that, although untried as an actor, Parton would be a perfect fit for a project Fonda was working on involving three female office workers embroiled in a battle of wills with their unscrupulous boss. Released just before Christmas in 1980, the comic-ladened 9 to 5 became not only the rare smash of the period to top $100 million in box office figures, but also propelled Parton to major screen stardom and one of her biggest solo hits, with her infectious title song making it to #1 on the country and pop charts, and gaining Parton an Oscar nomination for Best Song. Parton also was granted critical praise for her triumph on screen her first time out, wherein she easily kept pace with costars Fonda, an inspired Lily Tomlin, and Dabey Coleman as Frank Hart, aka the Boss from Hell. As Doralee, Hart’s sweet, humorous and upbeat secretary, Parton won over vast audiences with a naturalness, sincerity and intuitive comic spark onscreen that couldn’t be beat. Among the impressed viewers was this author, who was ecstatic to see Parton was as gifted onscreen as on her recordings.

                9 to 5 propelled Parton to a place among the cinematic elite, including gaining the position as the top female box office draw for 1981 (according to the esteemed Quigley Publishing poll), a feat she was able to match the following year with another huge hit, teaming with the #1 male draw, Burt Reynolds, for the film adaptation of the musical The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. Although the movie’s uneven in tone, Parton’s melodious voice, honesty and likability shine throughout, and do much to keep the film afloat. She has an infectious, robust joy for performing and magnetic presence that completely draws a viewer in, hitting exactly the right comic or dramatic notes as Miss Mona, the no-nonsense businesswoman who runs the title establishment. Although there’s a wealth of lighter fare on display, including a sexy, playful duet with a game Reynolds as the Sheriff, Parton illustrates how impactful she could be dramatically with her heartfelt rendering of “I Will Always Love You,” which was wisely added to the film and became a #1 Country hit again for Parton, a decade before Whitney Houston would send through the stratosphere on the pop charts. Set towards the end of the film wherein Miss Mona attempts to bid adieu to her sheriff/lover, the song opens with the camera on Parton’s back, before Miss Mona turns and sings “If I should stay. . .” The simple purity, fragility and depth of emotion Parton’s displays during the number is profound, and demonstrates how Parton had an intuitive knack for fine screen acting, whatever genre she was playing, leading to high praise from such critical notables as Robert Ebert and the difficult-to-please Pauline Kael.

 

 A big follow-up undertaking, 1984’s Rhinestone, stopped her momentum onscreen, but she ended the decade on a high note as part of the star-powered female lineup in the film version of the deft comedy/tearjerker Steel Magnolias, wherein as down-to-earth beautician Truvy Jones Parton again displays fine comic chops and a perchance for incredibly moving dramatic moments, such as Truvy’s gentle remark to her husband, “It makes you pretty” concerning a beauty product he’s asked about, while the characters are simultaneously re-bonding, and her reaction at a climatic post-funeral scene with her costars, wherein Parton’s completely true and instinctive performance style is overwhelmingly touching (rather than acting to a fare thee well as her costars do with great zeal and conviction, the focused Parton appears to be spontaneously taking in the moment as if it’s really happening, serving as a surrogate to audience members who are also emotionally gutted by the events unfolding onscreen).

                Parton continued to thrive during the later decades of her career, launching another entertainment cash cow with her Dollywood theme park. while continuing to reap accomplishments in musical, television and film, among them amassing a total of eleven career Grammys (including a Lifetime Achievement Grammy), another Best Song Oscar nomination for “Travelin’ Thru” and later a Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award from the Academy, a 2006 Kennedy Center honor, as well as involvement in many philanthropic endeavors including literacy programs for children, and a recent venture creating a Broadway musical based on her life and career. Through every enterprise and appearance, Parton’s talent, wisdom, humor and kindness burned bright, making her deservedly one of the most cherished entertainers ever, to the extent that her passing felt like the loss of a best friend to many. RIP to a true legend of various mediums; we will always love you, Dolly.