The Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Virginia – Turn Me Loose

The region of Appalachia has intrigued people for decades. Spanning 13 states and

2,200 miles, its mystery, isolation, and complicated history are deeply rooted in the American

identity. From these dark cracks, stories of hope have emerged, documenting resilience amid

poverty in works like Educated (Westover, 2018), The Glass Castle (Walls, 2005) and notably

Hillbilly Elegy, the autobiography of current Vice President J.D. Vance. Each of these stories

is about the search to find redemption, but what happens if you just let it rip? The Wild and

Wonderful Whites of West Virginia does just that.

D. Ray White, a famed mountain dancer from Boone County, West Virginia, was

known for his distinctive “flat-footing” style, a mix of rhythmic tapping, stomping and sliding

that defined the Appalachian tradition. After his murder in 1985, his son Jesco White carried

on his father’s legacy, inheriting not only his quick feet but his notorious reputation. His

unhinged antics were first exposed after he was featured in the PBS documentary TheDancing Outlaw. It was his unpredictable personality that caught the attention of Johnny

Knoxville, whose company Dickhouse Productions eventually funded the 2009 film. In The

Wonderful Whites, Jesco is just one character among a family whose escapades compete to

outdo each other in shock value.

The mayhem that plays out on screen is hard to believe. At family matriarch Bertie

Mae’s 84th birthday, a variety of drugs are passed around the room. The music blasts, and

for a moment, you’re empathizing with them, until you notice a three-year-old in the room. It’s

a sobering realization for the audience, but the Whites don’t seem to mind.

Moments like these unfold almost poetically. The Whites tell their story themselves,

unfiltered, unapologetic and violently proud. On the outskirts of society, they exist unbound by

every societal norm, and there is no doubt, they are free.

All in all, The Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Virginia shows us the best way to

understand a culture isn’t always through redemption arcs or moral lessons but by simply

watching it unfold, in all of its chaos.