FYC = 'June' (2023)

A Doc That Gave Me The Feels

May 17, 2026

My parents didn’t agree on a lot of things.

But they did agree on their love of “country and western” music. Not this newfangled pop music pretending to be for country folk. Actual “Country AND Western” music.

They listened to it on the radio. They watched it on television. They went to concerts. And nearly every summer of my childhood, they packed up the station wagon or van and we road-tripped to Nashville to absorb as much music as we could.

Grand Ole Opry or bust!

As a kid, I didn’t fully appreciate any of it. To me, it was just the soundtrack of long drives, humid summer nights, roadside diners, and adults singing along to songs about heartbreak, highways, God, whiskey, and bad decisions.

One of the biggest stars during those years was June Carter Cash.

To be honest, I didn’t really understand why she was such a big deal. I knew she was funny. I knew audiences adored her. And I knew she was married to Johnny Cash, which, in my young brain, automatically made her important by association.

What I didn’t understand back then was that June Carter Cash wasn’t simply standing next to history.

She was history.

Late last night, I watched June on Paramount+, and boy did it give me all the feels.

The documentary does a beautiful job unpacking her life beyond the familiar “wife of Johnny Cash” shorthand that tends to flatten complicated women into supporting characters inside famous men’s stories.

Instead, the doc reveals her as an artist, comedian, songwriter, performer, mother, businesswoman, caretaker, and survivor of an entertainment industry that rarely knew what to do with women who were smart, funny, talented, and unwilling to stay in the background.

And honestly? This lady was a badass. Long before being a badass woman was cool.

I had no idea how naturally funny and charismatic she was. Watching old television clips and performances, you realize very quickly that June could command a room with ease. She had timing. Presence. Warmth. Chaos. She could sing harmony with her family one moment and completely steal the spotlight with a joke the next.

The documentary also captures something bittersweet about fame, marriage, and creative partnership. Yes, her love story with Johnny Cash is central to the film, but it never completely overwhelms the narrative. If anything, the documentary argues that Johnny needed June more than June needed Johnny.

There’s also something deeply moving about seeing how much of modern Americana music traces back to the Carter family legacy. You begin to understand that this wasn’t simply entertainment for people like my parents. It was culture. Tradition. Storytelling. Memory.

Watching the film stirred up memories I hadn’t thought about in years. My dad smoking cigarettes as he hummed along to the radio. Tourist traps inside and outside of Nashville. Cheap souvenirs. Opryland. Long stretches of highway. My mother singing along to songs she knew by heart.

Funny how art can do that.

You start watching a documentary about someone else’s life and suddenly find yourself revisiting your own.

If you have even the slightest interest in folk music, country music, Americana, or the complicated women often hidden inside music history, I highly recommend this remarkable film about a remarkable woman.

And if you grew up around “country and western” music, be warned:

You may end up getting a little emotional too.

Keep calm and carry on!
Clint 🌈✌️