BROKE DOWN AND BUSTED: a review of "Crazy Heart"

“CRAZY HEART” Written for the Screen, Produced and Directed by Scott Cooper
***1/2 (three and a half stars)

There is an unexplainable art within every formula. It is a code I am certain that every filmmaker would love to crack because if that feat were possible, then every film made would qualify as a triumph. For better or for worse, such knowledge does not exist. Whenever I do happen to ponder the mystical art contained inside of a formula or film genre, I cannot help but to wonder if filmmakers sit with some sort of mythical checklist, marking down all of the necessary ingredients needed to complete a particular story in the most successful manner. Whatever the methods and means, no formula succeeds solely due to the ingredients. It is solely through the execution and in the right hands, viewers may be witness to cinematic alchemy.

In my previous review of Drew Barrymore’s “Whip It,” I remarked that although her film contained a familiar story with no real surprises or revelations, she and her film succeeded because she knew how to effectively utilize the ingredients of the formula of the “coming-of-age” genre and to not lazily allow the ingredients to use her. I now enthusiastically come to “Crazy Heart,” the beautifully realized and highly impressive debut feature from Writer/Producer/Director Scott Cooper. Like “Whip It,” this film contains a story as old as the hills with an arc that also contains no real revelations or surprises. But, Cooper’s execution, combined with Jeff Bridges thoroughly lived in performance, resulted in an excellent film with seriously rich and astute attention to character and realism.

Bridges stars as Bad Blake, a veteran and once highly regarded Country music singer/songwriter, now in the painful downward slide of his life and career. At the age of 57, his fame long behind him and nursing a nasty addiction to alcohol, Blake continues to slowly make his way, via an ancient pick-up truck, from one erratic performance to another to the delight of his dwindling and aging fan base. Like many once celebrated and now fading music veterans and legends, Blake is now relegated to performing in small town saloons and as the film opens, in the back of a bowling alley, a truly humiliating blow to his legacy. Yet the seeds for a potential late second act to his long career are planted via two avenues. The first is a proposed joint concert tour/recording session with current Country music shining star and former sideman/guitarist/protégé Tommy Sweet (Colin Farrell in a strong performance of equal parts swagger and sensitivity)—despite the fact that Blake has not written any new material in years. The second is through Jean Craddock (Maggie Gyllenhaal), a small town music journalist, and single Mother of a 4-year-old boy, who meets Blake for an interview, and subsequently begins a romance that is emotionally tumultuous due to the baggage each carries.

“Crazy Heart” is one of those films that does not exist to pursue a plot or even an actual story but does indeed adhere firmly to the formula of the embittered artist in the twilight of his career seeking redemption. What this film accomplishes in its avoidance of falling into any formulaic pitfalls is by presenting itself as a character study, where each development is not designed to serve as calculative move to drive the film’s momentum. It is a film of acutely observed behavior. And here is where I must heave mountainous praise upon the film’s cast, as they make this musical story sing graciously.

Jeff Bridges is one of our finest acting treasures and when I recently read that he has inexplicably not won an Oscar at any point over the last 40 years, I was honestly dumbfounded. I am seriously hoping that he can finally receive the recognition that has long eluded him as his performance as Bad Blake was transcendent in its searing authenticity. Actually, I would say that what he accomplished was less of a performance and more of a state of being. Bridges became Bad Blake and he had me completely fooled. He simply was this man and I actually began to believe that Blake was a real musical artist with landmark albums from the past that I could potentially go to i-tunes or my local library and search for musical treasures. Of course, Bridges handling all of his own singing (to great effect) added tremendously to the illusion, as all of the songs sounded like material he may have written himself.

Beyond the music, Bridges never strikes one false note in his physical and internal depiction. From his line-ridden face and whiskey-ravaged voice, to his almost arthritic appearing gait, what had once existed solely as a character from Thomas Cobb’s novel of the same name, now lives and breathes as a human being—as real as you or I and the person sitting next to us in the movie theater. As previously stated, Bridges works this character brilliantly from the inside out and the variety of levels we see in him, sometimes all in the same scene, is starling work. We are shown his rage-fueled indignity with a world that has largely long forgotten his fame and notoriety merged with a solemn acceptance of his current status, as it is buried under an alcoholic haze. He shows a tenderness and natural parental ability with Gyllenhaal’s son, yet he is terribly narcissistic and tragically self-damaged to ever really serve as a potentially positive role model. While he is open to discussing most of his musical and personal history within an interview setting, he also conducts those meetings as seductions, leaning back on that bottomless charm that had served him well with one-night stands, yet has produced five failed marriages is their wake. He is mercurial and sorrowful. Blindingly self-aware and hopelessly clueless. Jeff Bridges nails all of this territory perfectly, empathetically, subtly and magnificently.

Maggie Gyllenhall is Bridges’ equal is every possible way, and in a role that receives less attention as the film is indeed Bridges’ showcase. Gyllenhaal is able to go toe-to-toe with bridges and emerge completely unscathed and like Bridges, she works her character from the inside out, making her a realistic 21st century woman. The character of Jean Craddock is no fool and does not suffer them lightly. She gives as good as she gets and you do indeed feel the weight of her own personal scars and her willingness to not repeat past mistakes under any circumstances. Realistically, Craddock is undone by her own lack of good judgment and her romance with Bad Blake is a knowing mistake. You can simultaneously see her inner warning signs blaring in her brain, but also seeing how she is swept away by Blake’s considerable charm, despite his drunkenness and fame, despite its fading luster. In fact, Gyllenhaal tenderly gives us a character study of the classic situation of women falling for bad men, possibly with the misguided hopes that she would be the one to tame this particular brand of beast unlike any other woman from his past. Usually, the woman in question is wrong. Craddock knows this truth abundantly well but decides to test the fates regardless.

The fact that this is Scott Cooper’s debut feature as a Director is shattering to me. To be this good on your first try!! Like the great Clint Eastwood, he allows deep trust within the actors, material and characters, giving them the proper room to resonate in the most sufficient means. Cooper, while greatly handling all of the messy romantic material and perfectly finding every nuance in their dangerous relationship, he also gives us a film that is extremely savvy about the music business. Cooper shows us how the musical trajectory of Bad Blake’s life did not echo Willie Nelson’s but the ones of the long undervalued, under appreciated and long forgotten. We see how he is treated as a walking artifact and not as an artist in his own right and in ways, we how his legacy hasn’t even the strength to stand on its own two feet but it is something that must be defended and people must be reminded of. Tommy Sweet remains gracious and vigilant, always providing his legion of fans and uncaring record executives of Blake’s legacy and worth. Blake is also second-guessed by the technicians of today, as presented in a great rehearsal sequence set at a pavilion. Most perceptively, we see how the likelihood of Blake’s possible return to financial glory would never occur through the act of performing but only due to songwriting as he would reap true rewards through publishing rights. Cooper is masterfully in tune with all aspects of this story.

Bad Blake and Jean Craddock are living, breathing versions of country song characters; the aching, painful truths that live inside the clichés. What conduits we have in Bridges and Gyllenhaal, these two deeply skilled actors and Scott Cooper, an extremely gifted filmmaker at the helm, to rise so high above the constraints of formula by making them so exceedingly and vibrantly real.

(SIDE NOTE: So, why not four stars? Like "Up," another film I saw in 2009, that I had nothing but the highest praise for, all I can say is that I saw several other movies in 2009 that I had an even greater response to. "Crazy Heart" is an excellent film and I encourage you to check it out if you are able!)