As with any child of the 90’s, I was a huge Adam Sandler fan growing up. Hell, I was practically raised by the man through such movies as Billy Madison, Happy Gilmore, and The Waterboy. I don’t know what it is about his movies, but they just seemed to release this unique sense of innocent humor that, even to this day, I find charming. So when I first heard about Punch-Drunk Love, I was hesitant to watch it. I didn’t want to watch my childhood cinematic idol abandon his genre of expertise (crude slapstick comedy) and potentially botch an attempt to enter the serious realm of acting in this drama. Can Sandler perform well without making a fool of himself? Can he make this dramatic role work?
Well, let me put some fears to rest: Adam Sandler is EXCELLENT in this film. He plays Barry Egan, a lonely, emotionally handicapped small-time business man who is prone to fits of violent rage and held captive by the overbearing ridicule and manipulation of his seven sisters (having two older sisters myself, I can relate). Sandler doesn’t try too hard to be serious or dramatic, and as a result, he delivers a performance that feels authentic. It’s surprising, too, considering that his acting in this film occasionally reminded me of characters he played in previous movies, like Bobby Boucher and Happy Gilmore. Sandler’s natural raw acting style in this movie is reminiscent to a young Dustin Hoffman from The Graduate. In fact, Barry Egan could easily be a grown up version of Benjamin Braddock after the events of that movie.
But don’t let me give you the impression that Punch-Drunk Love is only a vehicle to show off Sandler’s acting chops. The true superstar of this movie is the director, Paul Thomas Anderson. Anderson strikes me as a director who takes a big step in developing his style with each film he makes. PDL was released before There Will Be Blood, Anderson’s most recent, critically acclaimed and Oscar-nominated film, and you can tell from the films’ similar visual and audio productions that the auteur had found a directorial voice that was stylistically independent from his influences, which include Scorsese, Kubrick, and Altman. PDL marks a great historical moment in Anderson’s career, in which he stopped making movies that mirrored other directors’ works and started embracing his role as one of the greatest directors currently working.
If you remember any of the TV commercials for this movie in 2002, you might think that this movie is just a quirky romantic dramedy about a troubled young man who finally finds love, and for the most part, you’d be right. But there is so much to the plot of PDL than just the romance. There is a surprisingly large emphasis to a separate plot thread that stems from earlier in the film in which Barry calls a phone-sex hotline. I don’t want to give away what happens with that, but I will say that this plot thread does create a heavy atmosphere of suspense and escalation that I found very captivating.
The one thing that I admire the most about this film is how it avoids being classified into a category and almost becomes its own genre. It has comedic moments, but they aren’t stupid and distracting like in other comedies. There’s a romance that blossoms, but the couple isn’t your average, super-passionate couple that you see other romantic movies. There are great moments of suspense, but they don’t take up too much screen time. There are abstract, metaphorical aspects of this movie, but the overall plot is rather straightforward. And you do have a troubled protagonist, but his road to redemption doesn’t follow the path that you might expect. All around, this film feels fresh and entertaining by avoiding all of the tired clichés that drag down other movies.
I also admire the visual design of PDL. Anderson creates a beautiful mesh of dull, sterile textures and bright colors that both pleases the eye and complements the plot. For example, it is no coincidence that many of the things that pull Barry out from his drab life are very colorful. His bright blue suit, Lena’s red dress (both of which serve as an homage to Godard’s 1961 film, Une Femme Est Une Femme), the beaches and parties of Hawaii, and the pied aisles of the grocery store where Barry purchases pudding cups to exploit the food company’s promotional contest, they all attract the audience’s eyes as well as Barry’s. Add in the strikingly bright video artwork of Jeremy Blake, and you have a true feast for the eyes.
And let’s not forget the unique soundtrack. If you just heard the soundtrack by itself, you would think that it came from an intense action flick. In reality, it mirrors the anxiety and hecticness that Barry faces dealing with his company, his hotline problems, and his nagging sisters. There are also tunes played on the harmonium, accompanying the harmonium that you see on screen (this instrument is a very important motif in PDL). The song that you will probably remember most, and possibly have stuck in your head for a day or two, is Shelley Duvall’s fittingly awkward version of “He Needs Me” (written by…hey, Harry Nilsson! What do you know?!).
As with many of Anderson’s past films, PDL features an ensemble cast of highly respectable actors. Emily Watson accompanies Sandler as Barry’s love interest, Lena Leonard. Any other actress would have probably played Lena as a bubbly Manic Pixie Dream Girl. Watson, however, plays a love interest who is more controlled and sincere, which is a nice accompaniment to the film’s apparent avoidance from genre traps. You can tell, through Watson’s performance, that Lena really sympathizes with Barry and wants to be with him, which was important for this movie’s success.
Another memorable performance in this film is delivered by none other but the great Philip Seymour Hoffman. He plays Dean Trumbell, owner of a mattress store in Utah and entrepreneur of the phone-sex hotline that Barry gets in trouble with. At first, Dean seems intimidating and formidable, but as the story carries on, you realize that he is just a sad little man who is afraid to back up his big talk. Hoffman makes this transition seamlessly and very effectively.
This movie struck the right note with me. As an awkward individual myself, I can relate to many of the anxieties that Barry faces. I didn’t know if I would like the movie before I began watching it, but now I consider it one of my all-time favorites. I like it better than The Graduate, its closest film in terms of style and character similarities. I even like it better than Anderson’s biggest film, There Will Be Blood, which is another one of my favorites. I could’ve easily given PDL my first 5 Star rating, had I had a little more confidence that the average person could appreciate this movie as much as I did. However, I have to admit that there are moments in which the symbolism of the film interferes with the logic of the characters. For example, why didn’t Barry call the police WAY beforehand? Furthermore, why did Barry take the harmonium with him when he went to Lena’s apartment? I managed to overlook these questions, but others might not have this suspension of disbelief, and I respect that.
I still very, very, VERY highly recommend Punch-Drunk Love. I have a feeling that this will be one of those films that, years later, will be fondly remembered and studied. It has a deep, highly symbolic visual design, overflowing amounts of originality, and a great, uplifting romantic story. As much as I like to pulverize crappy movies like Corky Romano through the written word, I get the greatest joy from this hobby of film reviewing when I get to introduce you to spectacular, overlooked films such as this. Please cast all of your reservations aside, as I did, and check this film out.
Rating: 4 Stars
Distributed by Columbia Pictures
Studio: Revolution Studios / New Line Cinema
Running time: 95 minutes
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