Punch-Drunk Love Review
by Karina Montgomery (karina AT cinerina DOT com)October 21st, 2002
Punch-Drunk Love
Matinee
The first question on everyone's mind isn't about the movie; it's about Adam Sandler. I know, believe me I know. Writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson has cojones of steel to cast someone who has only been in two good movies (and that's including Airheads) out of thousands of man-hours of terrible, puerile, stupid, grating terrible films, as the lead in a borderline arthouse flick like Punch-Drunk Love. I'm here to tell you that his gamble paid off. Not only was Adam OK, he was really good, and I would be hard pressed to name another actor who would have the qualities that he has in this role and could have done a better job.
Yes, you heard me. Sandler was great. Is it the writing? Sure. Strong cast around him? Why not? But the key is that Adam was doing what worked for him in the Wedding Singer, which is being funny and warm and natural, and keeping the grating aspect of his personality to a minimum. He has always been able to evoke a young child (though usually a bratty one) and this natural naivete he can project works delightfully.
Let us not forget comedians-turned-Serious Thespians Steve Martin and Robin Williams and Bill Murray and even Jim Carrey. While these men are better comedians on the whole than Sandler, they too slipped and scrabbled up the slope to be accepted as legitimate actors and the film world is richer for it. Adam did score in The Wedding Singer, and it is that infrequently seen warmth that is in this film Few people in 1989 would have drawn a straight line from Bosom Buddies to Two Time Oscar winner. I'm not jumping the gun here, I'm just saying be open minded.
As luck would have it, his character, Barry Egan, has a few personal issues, which allow Sandler's energy to be channeled for good instead of for Little Nicky. My companion brilliantly noted (non-derisively) that the first segment of the film felt like a commercial for social anxiety order. "Ask your doctor if this medication is right for you."
Then, in true Anderson style, the shoe drops, and the movie really begins. I love his languid style of storytelling, with silence and long takes and tight shots of minute actions. Both his most recent films (I have not seen Hard Eight, I regret) have taken their time, yet seemed packed with information and layers. Punch-Drunk Love has that feel, has the fresh-baked surreality, but without careening off into a rain of frogs. Anderson's permanent cinematographer, Robert Elswit, uses light in an interesting way - he allows lots of lens flare and glare and reflections and silhouettes and interstitial color waves. Thematically, it feels like something to chew on, rather than go, "oh, he's symbolizing that Barry's life is a dream until he wakes up and finds love." There is much to chew on in this film.
Is the harmonium a symbol, or an omen? Is it comfort, or freedom? These and other questions must be decided by you and your companions on the ride home. I won't spoil it by giving you my flawed interpretation.
Emily Watson is the fragile-smile, open blue eyed Lena Leonard, whom we adore instantly but wonder what she sees in Barry. He's a person who clearly has a lot going on inside, which he does not really reveal in the best of ways, but she is still drawn to him. It is my only complaint for the film. Watson's gaminelike gaze is so vulnerable and safe, it is no wonder that she is probably the only person on earth with whom Barry feels safe. Representing the rest of his life is his sister, played by the super Mary Lynn Rajskub, whom you will recognize.
Kudos for the song from Popeye. Like Sandler, the song was nothing any normal person would think to use in this film, yet it's perfect, maybe because it is surreal. I dug it.
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These reviews (c) 2002 Karina Montgomery. Please feel free to forward but just credit the reviewer in the text. Thanks.
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