Crazy Heart is undoubtedly a small movie, and proud of it.
It is also one of the most emotionally honest and earnest films I’ve seen in awhile.
At first glance Crazy Heart might seem like Oscar-bait, but the intentions behind its story are as pure and true as its characters.
The film opens with Bad Blake (Jeff Bridges) arriving in his beat-up truck at a dusty little bowling alley. We soon find out that Bad Blake is a washed up old country musician who spends his time hopping from crummy location to crummy location in search of work. He has a very tiny and dedicated fan base, but he otherwise lives in obscurity. In a cruel twist of fate, Bad Blake is also the mentor of a musician named Tommy Sweet (Colin Farrell), who enjoys widespread fame and love.
Bad Blake is an alcoholic with no family, and Jeff Bridges plays the role so convincingly that it is easy to forget that he’s just a fictional character. Bridges adds a sense of gentleness, playfulness and heart beneath the ragged, sardonic and worn exterior. There is something profoundly sad about watching such a man willingly drown in his own poison alone, to the point where he cannot complete a set without rushing off-stage to vomit. Seeing Bad Blake’s life in action is something akin to watching a slow-motion car crash. It’s terrible and gut-wrenching, but you are unable to tear your eyes away from the unfolding destruction.
A journalist named Jean Craddock (Maggie Gyllenhaal) steps into Bad Blake’s life. In what starts as a friendly interview, a relationship between the two blossoms into something much more substantial. Bad Blake soon enters her life and the life of her son Buddy (Jack Nation). With Jean and Buddy to comfort him, Bad Blake seems to find redemption for the mistakes he made in the past, including the estrangement from his now fully grown, biological son. However, this newfound relationship gets tested as Bad Blake’s old habits start kicking in again.
Not enough praise can be given to Jeff Bridge’s performance, which is sure to win him an academy award once the Oscar season rolls in. He is the beating heart and soul of the movie. The rest of the mentioned cast – with the inclusion of Robert Duvall as Bad Blake’s infectiously optimistic friend Wayne – deserve credit for being more than serviceable in their roles as well. However, Colin Farrell sometimes falters in maintaining a convincing Southern accent, as he tends to speak in short bursts in order to restrain his heavy Irish accent from breaking through. This is forgivable, since his sincerity shines out through his expressive eyes and body language.
Since the film features country music singers, there are a quite a few country songs that were made for the film. Even though I have little knowledge of the genre, I found the music to be pleasant if not forgettable. The film’s main song “The Weary Kind” is probably the one most likely to get stuck in a viewer’s head, if only for a few fleeting moments.
The genius of the film lies in its restraint. It treats its characters like real people, and it doesn’t paint its scenes in too broad, overly familiar or melodramatic strokes. We don’t get any big, harrowing scenes of Bad Blake hitting bottom or finding redemption. Although Jean Craddock gives Bad Blake a chance at redemption, she is not quite the miracle worker who saves him from the brink. Tommy Sweet is not a jerk, and the audience isn’t given a reason to turn him into an antagonist. The true antagonist, if there has to be any, is the accumulating weight of a lifetime of individual regrets and bad decisions.
Not all lives have to play out in a loud and showy fashion in order to be interesting. They are often built out of a series of small things that together form a larger picture. Sometimes these things can be as subtle as a series of notes plucked out on a guitar; but in concert they can form a distinctive song, one filled with its own unique quirks, slip-ups, and readjustments.
4/5 Stars