Crazy Heart, starring Jeff Bridges and Maggie Gyllenhaal
Jeff Bridges has been quietly piling up fine acting performances for decades. Crazy Heart is another showcase for Bridges' skills and a mighty fine one at that. Bridges gets a chance to chew up dented truck-loads of scenery and he gives us all of the goods, but this is still not a very good movie.
Bridges plays busted up country singer Bad Blake. No, I'm not kidding, that's the character's name.
As the film opens, Blake pulls up in his broken down truck, empties his gallon sized pee bottle in the parking lot and curses his agent for booking him to play a run down bowling alley. As the movie progresses, you learn that this is not the type of gig where they take over an entire bowling alley for use as a concert venue -- a bad enough slight to the former star -- no, Blake has been booked to play the little bar inside the bowling alley.
Apparently, Blake has driven his truck all the way from his place in Houston Texas -- with no stops to pee -- to play this bowling alley bar. Why? These are the only gigs his agent, always seen talking to Blake on a cordless phone from his hollywood mansion wearing a bathrobe and sunglasses, can get for him these days.
This opening sequence pretty much epitomizes the film. It's a terrific introduction to the character, we see that Bridges has disappeared into and has taken residence inside the skin of this guy who is running his final lap on the fumes of his former stardom. We like him immediately, we want to know what's going to happen to him, and we're impressed as hell with Bridges.
But, the movie has nowhere to go. Since it doesn't, you find yourself with time to start asking yourself nagging little questions like, how can there possibly be enough pay in a gig like this to make it worth Blake's time and gas money to drive all the way from Houston to Santa Fe? How could ten percent of this gig's pay be enough to make it worth his direct-from-central-casting hollywood agent's time to actually book it? How can there be enough money in this gig to pay for a local backing band and Blake's hotel, too? The film is filled with these kinds of implausibilities -- not a good thing when you're aiming for gritty slice of life drama.
We learn that Blake has a bad drinking problem. Maybe the film will be about how he either overcomes or fails to overcome it? Nope. We learn that -- just like the main character in so many recent dramas -- Blake has a child out there somewhere from whom he has been long estranged. Maybe the film will be about how he reconnects with him? Nope. Blake and Maggie Gyllenhaal's character fall immediately in love in another of the film's gratuitous this would never happen plot-lines. Maybe it will be about their struggle to make a relationship? Nope. Gyllenhaal is given the thankless job of simply regarding Blake with gushing tenderhearted compassion. We learn that Blake used to write incredible songs, but hasn't written a new one in many years. Maybe it'll be about his struggle to find the spark that fueled his former creativity? Nope.
We learn that Blake taught it all to a young protege and the youngster went on to fame and fortune and now wants Blake to open for him. This sequence also epitomizes the film. As the sequence begins, Blake would rather have his skin peeled off with needle nosed pliers than to open for his former back-up protege. "Every back-up singer dreams that the ass he's been staring at will someday be opening for him. Well, I don't owe him that dream!" Maybe we'll finally have some conflict to explore? No. In the same phone call, Blake simply changes his mind and agrees. Maybe there'll be fireworks when the two get together? Nope. The younger man simply adores Blake and wants the Badster to write songs for him.
Caution Spoilers!
At the end of the film, a lot of things have apparently happened. For example, the couple of times we saw Blake noodle around on his guitar while in a drunken stupor have resulted in those songs the younger man wanted, momentous changes have taken place in Gyllenhaal's life, Blake is now clean and sober and has decided to switch from Bad to his real first name....Otis. However, whatever struggle there was to plumb in the widths and depths of those changes has apparently taken place off-screen. The film has no interest in them.
What about Blake's estranged son? Blake calls him one day, the kid says he has no interest in connecting and Blake philosophizes later to Robert Duval (who seems to show up lately in any movie where he has a chance to don a Stetson for a few minutes) that the kid has a good point; Blake's effort is too little too late -- so, why fight the kid's rebuff?
It's that kind of movie.
I don't blame the academy for awarding Bridges an oscar. It's as fine a performance as he's given. I have a feeling that the award was not just for this film, though. I have a feeling that the quality and quantity of Bridges work simply achieved critical mass.
Jeff Bridges has been quietly piling up fine acting performances for decades. Crazy Heart is another showcase for Bridges' skills and a mighty fine one at that. Bridges gets a chance to chew up dented truck-loads of scenery and he gives us all of the goods, but this is still not a very good movie.
Bridges plays busted up country singer Bad Blake. No, I'm not kidding, that's the character's name.
As the film opens, Blake pulls up in his broken down truck, empties his gallon sized pee bottle in the parking lot and curses his agent for booking him to play a run down bowling alley. As the movie progresses, you learn that this is not the type of gig where they take over an entire bowling alley for use as a concert venue -- a bad enough slight to the former star -- no, Blake has been booked to play the little bar inside the bowling alley.
Apparently, Blake has driven his truck all the way from his place in Houston Texas -- with no stops to pee -- to play this bowling alley bar. Why? These are the only gigs his agent, always seen talking to Blake on a cordless phone from his hollywood mansion wearing a bathrobe and sunglasses, can get for him these days.
This opening sequence pretty much epitomizes the film. It's a terrific introduction to the character, we see that Bridges has disappeared into and has taken residence inside the skin of this guy who is running his final lap on the fumes of his former stardom. We like him immediately, we want to know what's going to happen to him, and we're impressed as hell with Bridges.
But, the movie has nowhere to go. Since it doesn't, you find yourself with time to start asking yourself nagging little questions like, how can there possibly be enough pay in a gig like this to make it worth Blake's time and gas money to drive all the way from Houston to Santa Fe? How could ten percent of this gig's pay be enough to make it worth his direct-from-central-casting hollywood agent's time to actually book it? How can there be enough money in this gig to pay for a local backing band and Blake's hotel, too? The film is filled with these kinds of implausibilities -- not a good thing when you're aiming for gritty slice of life drama.
We learn that Blake has a bad drinking problem. Maybe the film will be about how he either overcomes or fails to overcome it? Nope. We learn that -- just like the main character in so many recent dramas -- Blake has a child out there somewhere from whom he has been long estranged. Maybe the film will be about how he reconnects with him? Nope. Blake and Maggie Gyllenhaal's character fall immediately in love in another of the film's gratuitous this would never happen plot-lines. Maybe it will be about their struggle to make a relationship? Nope. Gyllenhaal is given the thankless job of simply regarding Blake with gushing tenderhearted compassion. We learn that Blake used to write incredible songs, but hasn't written a new one in many years. Maybe it'll be about his struggle to find the spark that fueled his former creativity? Nope.
We learn that Blake taught it all to a young protege and the youngster went on to fame and fortune and now wants Blake to open for him. This sequence also epitomizes the film. As the sequence begins, Blake would rather have his skin peeled off with needle nosed pliers than to open for his former back-up protege. "Every back-up singer dreams that the ass he's been staring at will someday be opening for him. Well, I don't owe him that dream!" Maybe we'll finally have some conflict to explore? No. In the same phone call, Blake simply changes his mind and agrees. Maybe there'll be fireworks when the two get together? Nope. The younger man simply adores Blake and wants the Badster to write songs for him.
Caution Spoilers!
At the end of the film, a lot of things have apparently happened. For example, the couple of times we saw Blake noodle around on his guitar while in a drunken stupor have resulted in those songs the younger man wanted, momentous changes have taken place in Gyllenhaal's life, Blake is now clean and sober and has decided to switch from Bad to his real first name....Otis. However, whatever struggle there was to plumb in the widths and depths of those changes has apparently taken place off-screen. The film has no interest in them.
What about Blake's estranged son? Blake calls him one day, the kid says he has no interest in connecting and Blake philosophizes later to Robert Duval (who seems to show up lately in any movie where he has a chance to don a Stetson for a few minutes) that the kid has a good point; Blake's effort is too little too late -- so, why fight the kid's rebuff?
It's that kind of movie.
I don't blame the academy for awarding Bridges an oscar. It's as fine a performance as he's given. I have a feeling that the award was not just for this film, though. I have a feeling that the quality and quantity of Bridges work simply achieved critical mass.
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