When Jeff Bridges didn't win the best actor Oscar for his portrayal of The Dude in The Big Lebowski i came thiiiiiis close to hanging myself, as I pretty much gave up on cinema at that news. But I held on, and kept wishing one day The Dude ('Jeff Bridges' is more like a moniker now, he is just The Dude) would blow our faces off once more, and earn himself that lil' golden statue that he so obviously deserves. When he won the best actor award this year, i developed a theory about the Academy Awards, i figure, they don't necessarily give the award to the most deserving nominee; at this point they are trying to make up for the mistakes they have made in the past. The Dude's performance in Crazy Heart is a good one, very good infact, so good it almost saves a film that would have been seven types of pure shit had he not been in it (although an alternative save could have been obtained by having Maggie Gyllenhaal naked in every single scene, with the possibility of her jumping on a trampoline, just a thought). His performance was not, however, as good as Clooneyface in Up In The Air or Viggo Mortenson in The Road; yet he still wins. I would complain more if I didn't think that The Dude deserved one, just he didn't deserve one this year, and now in future award ceremonies Clooney and Mortenson will get Oscars for performances that were not deserving, and so the vicious cycle of the Academy scrubbing off its guilt continues. Ok rant over, into the review...
Country music......I will let those words burn their way onto you retinas for a moment.....you see, when I see those words I almost instinctively try to tear my nuts off and force them in next to my eyeballs; as I would rather see nuts for eternity than ever have to suffer country music...ever (a preemptive fuck you to Ryan, country music does suck, live with it :P). So I had to tie myself to my bed and sellotape my eyelids open to sit through Crazy Heart; the story of Otis "Bad" Blake (The Dude), an old, run down country singer who rediscovers himself and his music through the love for a single mother, understandable as that single mother is Gyllenhaal.... damn just saying her name makes my manhood twitch (sorry for the imagery). Bad Blake is doing a small tour in loads of shitty bars, and fittingly in bowling alleys (THE DUUUUUUUDE) to make ends meet on the back side of his career; he spends his free time throwing whiskey down his throat like an Irish dock worker, smoking like Frenchman with a death wish and nailing more middle age groupie wenches than any man could ever want (if thats your thing, I guess its an acquired taste). Whilst wandering into the next venue he is to perform in, he is pointed towards Gyllenhaal who is a local journalist, and he agrees to give an interview for her publication. To cut a long story short, Gyllenhaal and her 4 yr old son Buddy (who names their son Buddy?? really? fucking who?) manage to soften Blake's cold, whiskey pickled heart and he falls in love with his new lady friend. And so the story kicks off...
The problem with Crazy Heart, apart from the abundance of country music, is that it feels rushed. It could have been infinitely better just by spreading the runtime out by 30 minutes more, thats all it would take, but because the whole film is squeezed into 112 minutes (usually plenty of time, but not for what Crazy Heart tries to accomplish), all the plot points whizz by at the speed of sound and we never relate to any of the characters apart from Blake himself, and even thats a push. Blake goes from meeting Jean (Gyllenhaal), to sleeping with her, to meeting her son, to being in love with her, all before I realized there was meant to be a spark between them at all, to be honest I was still under the impression it was the same night of his second gig but it was in fact the next evening. Later in the film i blinked and Blake was suddenly in rehab for alcoholism, i literally turned to get a drink of water, so 2 seconds maybe, and he went from laying on his bed to being in AA, seriously, what the fuck?! Note to director Scott Cooper, give me time to acknowledge what the fucks happening before completely changing the course of the plot and trying to throw Collin Farrell down my throat so fast i have an Irish accent for hours after, you asshole. I finished watching this film and it felt like my brain had been raped, the poor thing was still trying to comprehend information given in the first hour of the film, "wait...he is like with her now?....where is he.....Austin, Texas....why does it all look the same as the last place?...whaa?....errrr?.....(This is when i started bleeding from my ears and nose)......credits? holy shit thats it?"
Despite these elements that ruin the film, The Dude and Gyllenhaal do have moments of brilliance, with the fine lady Maggie always finding a way to leave her mark on a film, she is quite amazing as Jean, and probably should have won the best supporting actress gong if it wasn't for Mo'Nique in Precious and if we had more time to admire her onscreen. And The Dude, as always, does a great job, even if he is just playing a wasteman musician, he still makes it cool, because.....well....because he is the Dude, fool.
I don't know if I could recommend Crazy Heart for anybody to watch, I think you have to "get" country music to truly like this film, and therefore need to have maybe half of your brain removed (give or take). I could be wrong, give it a go, in fact thats it, watch this film just to tell me whether I am being completely and totally shortsighted about the whole thing. But Im confident Im right, because Im always right.
Till next time
Peace
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