Crazy Heart, Dull Story

There’s a strong possibility that Crazy Heart will finally give the accomplished yet underrated Jeff Bridges his first Oscar. I have mixed feelings. On one hand, the fallen country star Bad Blake is tolerable because Bridges can find the humor in a lonely, pathetic situation. What’s more, he effectively balances a deteriorating physical condition with an unwavering talent. But too often the film falls back on shots of Blake’s fat gut or scenes of him weeping over broken whiskey bottles. Some will call them dull; others will call them Oscar moments.

It’s a conventional story: a broken-down drunk rides his broken-down truck through a series of small-venue bars scrounging what little cash (and ass) past fame can afford him. He meets a woman named Jean who’s way too hot for him and he’s off on the road to redemption. That Maggie Gyllenhaal - as the single-mother Jean - is about 30 years younger than Bridges is beside the point. It worked last year in The Wrestler. Marissa Tomei connected with Mickey Rourke as failed parents and through shared experiences as showpieces. It also didn’t hurt that Rourke had a six-pack.

In Crazy Heart, Jean seems to fall in love with Blake due to that undying female instinct to save a man who needs saved. That, or she possesses a crystal ball that shows Blake eventually bonding with her toddler son. Gyllenhaal gives a solid performance, but the script doesn't give her much beyond a role as Blake’s love interest. Nor does it spend enough time on the relationship between Blake and Tommy (Colin Farrell), a headliner who offers his mentor a life raft by commissioning him to write a few songs. We learn that the two had a falling out, but the rift and its speedy resolution lessens the complication.

First-time writer/director Scott Cooper reduces Jean and Tommy to stepping stones for Blake’s road to sobriety. The road offers no alternative destination and plods through several obligatory scenes, and it’s to the actors’ credit that the film remains engaging. Additionally, the original music by T-Bone Burnet and Stephen Bruton is pitch-perfect, never sounding too on the nose, compensating for lags within the story.

I am a big Jeff Bridges fan. The Dude is obviously a cultural staple, but my favorite was his high school football star in The Last Picture Show, an understated portrayal of a guy who loses his sense of masculinity. Such performances are why Bridges has remained underrated despite accruing 4 Oscar nods. He delivers again here, but it’s disappointing to see him possibly nabbing the gold for a weaker film that seems like Oscar bait.

Oh, well. As Martin Scorsese knows, sometimes Oscars are career achievement awards.