As the boys finish running through “Words I Couldn’t Say,” in walks a tall, rugged guy in a baseball cap and a plaid jacket who immediately commands the room. Though 25-year-old Garrett Hedlund isn’t yet a household name, his face is more than vaguely familiar. He’s played supporting roles in Friday Night Lights (alongside Tim McGraw there, as well), Four Brothers, Eragon and Troy. Come December, you and just about everyone you know will recognize him as the lead from Tron Legacy, the highly anticipated sequel to the 1982 cult classic.
Here Hedlund plays Beau Hutton, a Nashville country singer who’s been tapped (along with Meester’s character) to open for superstar Kelly Cantor (Paltrow) on her comeback tour. His backing band also serves as Meester’s in the film. Because she wants Hedlund and his band to have the unforced camaraderie and comfort of dudes who’ve logged long hours together in close quarters, director Feste nudged them into the rehearsal space.
Wilson puts on “Hard Out Here,” one of three “Beau Hutton originals” penned by Texan songwriter Hayes Carll — who, coincidentally enough, bears a slight physical resemblance to Hedlund. (In fact, director Feste later explains that much of the Hutton character’s appearance was modeled after Carll.) “Hard Out Here” is an old-school honky-tonk shuffle in the vein of the two King Georges, Jones and Strait.
The gravelly baritone coming from the speakers, though, is Hedlund’s. He, Meester and Paltrow all performed their own vocals, and Hedlund’s here to make sure his performance is natural in a scene with Wilson & Co.
Despite never having sung in a role before, Hedlund passes. His gruff, idiosyncratic timbre is world-weary beyond its years, channeling influences like Kris Kristofferson and Merle Haggard — which Hedlund cops to immediately. He later explains that Feste accompanied him to a karaoke session at Brass Monkey in Los Angeles’ Koreatown to check out his pipes.
“Because she had to report back and say [that I could sing],” says Hedlund, “I took her out to karaoke. … I think it was so bad, though, at the time.” Apparently it wasn’t quite as rough as Hedlund recalls. After that meeting — along with a reading and a guarantee that he’d be willing to put in the work — Feste was all too happy to cast him.
Casal is at the rehearsal space this Thursday evening as well. He’s making sure Hedlund’s fingering looks natural, not that he needs too much help with that anymore. Hedlund is singing along to his own voice, glancing about the acoustic-tiled rehearsal space at his cohorts.
“That’s been a nightmare,” jokes Nicholson, with Hedlund flashing a grin bright as the Hollywood 27′s marquee in the seat next to him. “I wouldn’t have taken the job if I’d known the terrible hijinks he would be putting me through in the months to come.”
Hedlund and Nicholson were in fact fast friends. When Feste and veteran music supervisor Randall Poster began looking for locals to cast in Hedlund’s onscreen backing band, they happened to ask Nicholson. “I just had the good fortune of knowing these guys, and I started showing [Poster] pictures from my Facebook,” Nicholson says. “They were casting from my Facebook friends page, basically.”
“I trust [Poster] 100 percent,” explains Feste, “and he was integral in the casting process. We both wanted to create something real. First of all, I fell in love with all the guys’ faces, and they’re musicians. They love music, and you can tell when they play. So much of the time, I didn’t even have to give them direction … and [playing with them] helped Garrett feel like he was in a real band.”
As for the actors, Hedlund heeded Tim McGraw’s advice to “live and breathe country music” — approaching the role from the perspective of a singer trying to make it in the business, not an actor tackling a role. He and his onscreen backing band even playfully wrote a handful of originals. Feste was so set on extracting natural chemistry from Hedlund and his backing band that Wilson and a couple of his pals ended up with some unforeseen lines in the film — meaning a handful of session players who had never been on film ended up acquiring SAG cards.
