Eva Hassmann stars in her directorial debut, playing a German woman who travels to America to see her idol Willie Nelson’s farewell concert.

German actress Eva Hassmann has crafted an engaging showcase for herself with her debut feature as a writer, producer, director and star. Serving as the opening night film of the Oldenburg International Film Festival, Willie and Me is the sort of ramshackle road movie they hardly make any more. Checking your credibility at the door is the best way to experience the film, which serves as Hassmann’s love letter to both Willie Nelson and herself (America, not so much), and features cameo turns by Nelson and the late Peter Bogdanovich in his last screen appearance.  

Arriving for some reason in Reno, Greta checks into a motel whose friendly clerk (Bogdanovich) likes to surreptitiously take a nip now and then, and is barely there for five minutes when she runs into — what else — an Elvis impersonator, Nick (Blaine Gray), who offers the beautiful foreign stranger a friendly welcome.

As you’ve no doubt figured out by now, credibility isn’t exactly the film’s strong suit (nor would it be likely to be endorsed by the Nevada Department of Tourism), and the narrative only gets loopier from there.  But much like the songs of Willie Nelson that populate its soundtrack, the film relies on a general uplifting atmosphere as the indefatigable Greta stops at nothing to fulfill her dream. Along the way, she gets bitten by a rattlesnake, is rescued by a mysterious stranger, has a heartwarming up-close-and- personal encounter with her idol and falls for Nick.

That the mysterious stranger, whose face seems to be covered in soot, is played by Nelson himself provides an example of the film’s charming playfulness (the episode seems reminiscent of Melvin and Howard). Most of the proceedings are too silly for words, but any movie in which you get to see the then-octogenarian singer (he turned 90 earlier this year) exuberantly perform a German folk dance has to be treasured. Formerly a frequent player in films and television movies (he’s terrific in Michael Mann’s 1981 classic Thief), Nelson provides such a warm, reassuring presence here that you realize how much he’s been missed onscreen. The concert scenes in which he’s seen performing excerpts of some of his biggest hits are another bonus.

Hassmann, whose film and television credits date back nearly 30 years, proves more accomplished as an actress than filmmaker, with one sequence involving Greta’s car running over a rabbit particularly clumsily handled. But she’s a fine screen comedian, willing to downplay her striking looks with a go-for-broke silliness that proves endearing.