Review of Crazy Heart (2009) by Edith N — 18 Dec 2010

Not So Much Computers as Battered Old Guitars and Booze.

We did not go to the movies today, because it is the Saturday before Christmas (contrary to popular belief, actually the busiest shopping day of the year), and our theatre is in the mall. Or else across town, which would actually be an even bigger nuisance. We may brave it for tomorrow, which will mean two Jeff Bridges movies in a row. The fact that they will be two very, very different movies is, however, pretty well par for the course when it comes to Jeff Bridges. I mean, start listing movies from him. Yes, he often plays a laid-back guy. Yes, there are often substances involved; I have friends who drink White Russians because they've seen [i]The Big Lebowski[/i] too many times. (They do not believe such a thing is possible.) However, what draws him out of his comfortable world and what he does when he's drawn out of it can change radically.

Bad Blake (Bridges) was a pretty big name in country music. Oh, never a chart-topper, never really all that big. But plenty of people would go see him when they got the chance, and a lot of people have one of his songs as an "our song." That was a long time ago, though, and he's had a lot to drink since then. He used to work with Tommy Sweet (Colin Ferrell), but Tommy's gone on to the big time, leaving Bad alone working crappy bars. Tommy gets him a gig when he can, but he can't all that often. Then one day, after one gig, Bad is introduced to Jean Craddock (Maggie Gyllenhaal), a nobody writer for a nothing newspaper whose uncle happened to do Bad a favour, so he's doing a favour for her. Only the pair fall in love. Jean is trying to do her job and take care of her son, Buddy (Jack Nation). Bad is, as the saying goes, doing what he can to keep body and soul together. How much he actually wants to is a different question which he'd rather we not ask.

Among the latest developments in Bizarre Academy Rules is the change in rules for Best Original Song. For example, they won't let you get an Oscar for a song slapped over the credits anymore, even if that song arguably encapsulates the movie perfectly. ("I Just Move On" from [i]Chicago[/i] would be an example, and the only reason they stuck it over the credits was that it didn't fit the conceit of the movie, not that "Mister Cellophane" did, either.) It has to play during the movie. It has to be integral to the story, not just something playing in the background; I'm more okay with that one. Heck, given the new system, they don't even have to have the category anymore, which is ridiculous. Under any set of rules, however, this was one of the strongest contenders of the year, and of course it won. The fact that it was another song with a bona fide music legend as a credited songwriter helped, but the Academy is sometimes weird about that. Hence neither Sting nor Dolly Parton have an Oscar.

I think the theme of the movie may be said to be, "Sometimes, you have to make tough choices." Tommy Sweet knows that he can't give Bad all the help he wants to, and he knows at least in part that it's because Bad would just throw that help away. Bad knows that the song he's written ("The Weary Kind," the winning song) is probably the best of his career, and he knows that it'll slip into oblivion if he keeps it for himself. He'll just end up playing it in bars, where he will end with drinking himself to death. Most painful to watch is Jean. Maggie Gyllenhaal lost to Mo'Nique this year; I'm not sure I'll ever actually watch that performance. Certainly I will have to be [i]very[/i] careful of my mood. However, I can see why Gyllenhaal was nominated. She's not as splashy as her brother, but here, she gives a striking performance as a woman who sees what she wants but also sees what it might and probably will get her. She also knows that, long after you give birth, you are still making choices for two.

Do I wish I'd gotten to this sooner? Yes and no. I must admit that I'm still a little unclear as to what Robert Duvall has to do with anything. (Cousin Bobby, as he is in my head.) Most of the movie is a sort of country-scored blur in my head. There's a beautiful scene where Bad is somewhere out in the wide, open spaces which I love to look and at couldn't live in, talking to Jean on a pay phone in the middle of nowhere, but my brain gives me no context to put the image into. I did listen to the soundtrack last year, after nominations came out, and flat didn't care about most of it. Most of what I did care about, I didn't like. "The Weary Kind," actually, was about the only one I felt I would want to listen to again. I admire that Bridges and Farrell sang their own songs; I always respect that in actors. And it certainly is true that Jeff Bridges, at his best, gets into people's skins and walks around in them. But I will not be adding this one to my wish list any time soon.