“Let’s go – I’ve had about all the Kentucky I can take!” announces Bev (Amy Adams) about five minutes into “Hillbilly Elegy,” and I’ll tell you what, I was already in agreement. Based on the memoir of self-described “nationalist” J.D. Vance and directed by Ron Howard with the subtlety of a sledgehammer symphony, ‘Elegy’ isn’t the worst motion picture of the year (though it’s up – or down – there), but it is the most shameless, a naked play for awards and prestige that doesn’t even have the courage of its sketchy source material’s convictions. I saw it described on Twitter, sight unseen, as “a Jenna Maroney movie,” and nothing in the paragraphs to follow will summarize it quite succinctly.