Strangely, even though Blake Rayne is an Elvis dead-ringer, he’s not Elvis “The King” Presley in Dustin Marcellino’s The Identical. Instead, he’s Ryan Wade, a preacher’s son with big rock ‘n’ roll dreams. He’s also Drexel “The Dream” Hemsley, a heartthrob with an Elvis-like baritone/tenor range. Separated at birth, the twins are unaware of their blood bond, even though they look, act, and sound exactly alike. Initially, I thought The Identical was a retelling of the Elvis tale, and it is. However, my mind changed when Wade’s producer declares, “There’s only one Elvis, one Beatles, and one Drexel Helmsley!” In this film’s screwy universe of mounting contradictions, the surreal idea that Elvis, an Elvis-lookalike, and an Elvis-lookalike’s doppelganger all exist simultaneously and have almost identical levels of success is one of many.
The Identical’s path of cinematic unrighteousness is born on a sweet premise: unable to support twins, a young couple gives one up to a charismatic preacher (Ray Liotta) and his barren sweetheart (Ashley Judd), and they all agree that this is God’s plan. From a young age, Ryan can only remember the scripture if he sings it, much to the chagrin of Liotta, who fills the role of the stock Disapproving Father; Judd, meanwhile, is the Nurturing Mother. The former has dreams for his son to walk in God’s path, the other smiles at her son’s burgeoning musical talent. As you can guess, these character-types persist through most of the movie until one of them (I won’t say, but you can probably guess) has a change of heart.
As a young man, Ryan is a footloose teetotaler, frequenting honkeytonks with his reckless buddy Dino (Seth Green). He finds his call as a musician just as his twin Drexel hits it big, whose life is made aware to the audience predominately through montage. We never see the life of Drexel as in depth as we see Ryan’s, who goes through most of his interactions that are punctuated by, “Golly, you sure do look like that Drexel Hemsley!” It’s how he gets a job at an auto shop (his boss is played by Joe Pantoliano) and it’s how his second meeting with Jenny, his bride-to-be (Erin Cottrell), begins. It’s also what leads him to a prosperous career of impersonating Drexel, but the gig gets stale. More soul searching occurs, eventually leading to a finale in which Ryan cheerfully accepts his fate as “The Identical,” leaving the film on a creepy and morally bankrupt note.
As a story of a grief-stricken musician with a brother he never grew up with and a mountain of daddy issues, The Identical has Walk the Line ambitions with a Walk Hard skin. The soaring “Important Movie” strings score the deep moments. As everyone else around him ages, Rayne’s features stay roughly the same. The notion that a rock ‘n’ roll impersonator could skyrocket to success and be as beloved and successful as their inspiration moves the film forward. The one major difference, however, is the prevailing wholesomeness dominating The Identical’s fantasy land, where rock ‘n’ roll is devoid of sex and hard drugs. Kudos on abstaining from a cliché, but ultimately, it kills any chance of grounding the story.
Over twenty original songs were written for The Identical by Yochanan and Jerry Marcellino, the director’s grandfather and father, respectively. This feat would be admirable of they were able to create music that actually sounded like the decade from which it was inspired. Moreover, these songs are performed with a hair metal swagger. Given the acting talent involved and some impressive cinematography, the film has a boundless energy to it, but the filmmakers are too busy sermonizing to retain consistency. As glad as I am that The Identical avoids the mistake of trying to misguidedly analyze the myth and legend of Elvis, its unauthorized historical revision (posing a scenario where Elvis’s stillborn twin lived) is far creepier than one would imagine.
