‘Heartland’ Review: Jessica Chastain Makes Netflix’s Nashville Whodunnit Sing

I can’t say I’m surprised that Jessica Chastain is perfectly cast as a country singer with a checkered past, busting down doors in Nashville, swaggering into crime scenes in an embroidered trench coat, using hand cannons and tabloid exposés to solve a missing persons case. Chastain is one of those performers who can do anything. So, why not headline a Netflix Original whodunnit that plays like the best airplane novel you never read, and — one can only hope — the first in a long, long series? What’s surprising about writer/director Shana Feste’s “Heartland” is that her film isn’t a boiler plate mystery, or a cheesy musical genre mash-up. It’s a smart, fascinating detective story with a unique setting that informs every scene, so the story can play out exactly the way you expect and still surprise you. It’s a little too easy for mystery fans to predict where the plot is going in “Heartland,” but it’s a hoot to watch how it plays out, and learn what it all means when the curtains finally close. Chastain plays Misty Jones, a country music star with so many Grammys they turn up in her refrigerator, as welcome as week-old pizza. She left the business 20 years ago and lives on a pecan farm in Georgia with her dogs, and shoots out her neighbors’ windows after they kill one of her mangy mutts for making too much noise. Misty Jones doesn’t just sing about being a s–tkicker, she kicks s–t with the best of them. Misty wouldn’t be caught dead in Nashville anymore, but when her niece, ascending diva Charlie Heart (Carter Faith), goes missing, she’s the only one in the family who knows her way around Music City. There’s a lot of bad blood waiting for her, and a gaggle of good for nothing cops who believe Charlie’s equally good for nothing reps when they say she’s just on a songwriting retreat. Nobody believes Misty but she must be onto something because people are already trying to kill her, so she does what no other pulp detective can: She goes on TV and drops a tabloid bombshell that rocks the country music scene and forces the police to get off their lazy butts. Fans of the mystery genre know it’s the tropes that make an engine purr. All a great storyteller has to do is tune them up once in a while, and thanks to Feste’s handiwork, “Heartland” runs like a dream. We’ve got memorable, intriguing characters and twists aplenty, and they come from unlikely places. It’s not a shock when you learn what really happened to Charlie Heart, but it sure is something when Misty finds a clue in Charlie’s disturbing lyrics and sings them to get her suspects talking. Feste concocts several scenarios that force Misty back on the stage and every time it makes perfect sense, and every time it reveals something new about her, and every time the music is memorable. The suspects include an obvious red herring, but also a helpful country music producer named Roy (Garrett Hedlund) and Charlie’s smug, lascivious boyfriend Jace (Ross Lynch). We probably shouldn’t count out Winnie Jo Lean, either. She’s Misty’s arch-nemesis in the music biz, and she’s played by Grammy-winning country legend Jennifer Nettles. John Hawkes also turns up in flashbacks as Misty’s cheating ex-husband, so you know he’ll have a big scene eventually, and it’s a good one. The ensemble may be striking, and Feste may know this material like the back of her hand, but this is Chastain’s movie and she knows it. Misty Jones is a great character, full of depth yet always an old-fashioned cowboy icon, and Chastain understands that’s not a contradiction. You can be tough as nails and a softie, people just have to be careful how they hug you, is all. Chastain’s got star power, and what’s more, Chastain has a different kind of star power than her character. Chastain is an actor’s actor, giving every role everything it needs. Misty can only be herself, whether that makes her a hit recording artist or Nashville’s biggest pariah. There are times in “Heartland” where you can see the seams in the presentation. A lot of information comes out of ADR and it never sounds right, because Feste’s film is all about location so we can always tell when a room’s conspicuous echo drops out whenever vital exposition gets dropped by someone off-camera. It’s the minor kind of annoyance that only stands out if the rest of the filmmaking is on point. You may have heard that if you can’t think of anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all, but critics have a different rule: If you can’t think of anything to criticize, nobody will believe anything you say. “Heartland” is a solid mystery with an involving story and a phenomenal new detective, and that should be enough. Feste’s film is a treat for whodunnit enthusiasts, but beneath its plot is a story with something to say about the how women are treated in the entertainment industry, and how the men Misty calls “garden variety man-in-power pieces of s–t” get away with murder. What’s more, it outlines a path to torching misogynistic abusers and getting out from under generations of miserable cycles. It’s an intelligent film, a gripping yarn, and the songs are good too. This movie’s got heart, and if anyone doesn’t think that’s enough, it’ll probably slash your tires.