Monday, November 11, 2002
Punch Drunk Love
When one emerges blinking into the light after seeing a Paul Thomas Anderson film, there’s usually one of two reactions:
1. What in the hell was that?”
2. Wow, he done it again!
I’m firmly in the latter camp, at least so far.
I do have to admit I can’t accurately tell you what a person thinks/feels after the average Adam Sandler picture, because I haven’t blinked into that particular light, yet. Punch Drunk Love is no average Adam Sandler (or anybody else’s) movie.
Sandler plays Barry Egan, a loser who appears to have a small business selling novelty plumber’s friends. His seven sisters appear to be dedicating their lives to “help him” past his weirdness, while reminding him of it and, more importantly, inciting it with every breath they take. I need to call my lone brother tomorrow morning and tell him how much I love him.
Sandler is riveting as a man so on edge he is afraid to make any move because people might notice him, who longs to be noticed for something other than his innate geeky ineptitude. And somebody does: a perfectly cast Emily Watson.
No one may be quite as odd in real life as Barry behaves in this film, at least no one who finds love with a beautiful woman. I’m reminded of the Jerry Lewis movies of my youth where babes like Stella Stevens can see how beautiful Jerry is inside, even though it’s
pretty clear to the rest of us that no bigger loser ever trod the Earth. This is an idea with appeal for a certain kind of boy. Believe me. But I can testify that many of us (boys and men) feel as goofy and angry, and out of touch as Barry (and Jerry) feels, and sometimes
miraculously we do find the love of a beautiful woman. My own wife assures me that Barry’s behavior was not really attractive to her, as if to make sure I don’t make of him a role model.
Yes, in some ways (but not the usual ones) Punch Drunk Love is quite the romantic comedy, but most of all it is another P. T. Anderson show. (If you’ve seen Boogie Nights or Magnolia you know what I mean) The movie starts cold with a sequence introducing us to Barry, and Emily, and a stray Harmonium, and a remarkable offer from Healthy Choice and American Airlines. After a suitable period of time, what appears to be the opening credit sequence begins with a musical interlude and some abstract patterns of intense color. We wait to see the title and other credits, but, well, that would be too easy. Anyone could do that.
The rest of the cast is superb, especially a couple of Anderson’s rep posse: Phillip Seymour Hoffman and Luis Guzman. The camera work, sound design, editing, choice of natural sets, lighting and color design, and yes, the music are all a delight; and as much of
the comedy of the piece is found among these crafts as in the acting. I would buy the soundtrack for just the closing credits if I could.
Punch Drunk Love: even the title is just right. As we left the theater, I commented to my long suffering wife, “you know, they really don’t make them like that any more.” She just rolled her eyes. I’m a lucky man.
