Gary Busey's surly, burly performance in the lead role somewhat elevates this conventional musical biography, which skims without pause over the short road from jam sessions in a small-town Texas garage, to Top 40s fame and fortune, to an early grave in the Midwest winter. (Nothing in this easygoing movie is lingered on longer than the sickeningly drawn-out, drum-roll approach to Holly's death.) Much has been made of the fact that the actors themselves play and sing the music. But while they appear to be comfortable and confident whenever they are around a microphone, these actors, repeating one of the commonest faults of musical biographies, tend inevitably to drown out your memory of the real thing. They do not sound any more like Buddy Holly and the Crickets than Diana Ross does Billie Holiday, Julie Andrews does Gertrude Lawrence, or Barbra Streisand does Fanny Brice. There is something to be said, too, for lip-synching to the originals. With Don Stroud, Charlie Martin Smith; directed by Steve Rash. (1978) — Duncan Shepherd
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