Cinema Alliance Movie Reviews

Jeff Bridges channels Kris Kristofferson big time in this film chronicle of the less glamorous aspects of a musician’s life. From the first scene where Bad Blake exits his old Chevy Suburban and pours his road urine from a plastic windshield washer fluid bottle onto the parking lot of the bowling alley where he will be performing, Crazy Heart radiates a low key realism that will keep viewers captivated. The movie looks to be a great example of the downward spiral from that moment, and loses a little credit when it turns into a tale of redemption in the end. That doesn’t matter, though, because it is a joy to watch Jeff Bridges act.

Bad Blake at fifty-seven years old can be summed up by the two facts everyone knows about him: what songs he has written and what kind of booze he prefers. (Amazingly, the producers of the film resisted product placement money to make him a fan of Jack Daniel’s or Jim Beam and had him marinating himself in “McClure’s” whiskey instead. The film in fact had a refreshing lack of product placements.) Between the barfing and the womanizing and two packs of coffin nails a day Bad somehow manages to keep his life together. A miracle, surely. But not as much as much of a miracle as the scene where he manages to find a working phone booth along a highway in the desert.

Along the way he finds some surprisingly good pick up bands to accompany him. Like more than a few musicians, he manages to grind out the performances even when the chips are down and the chunder is a-flowin’. He is unkempt and crusty and goes around with his belt unbuckled…you can almost smell the boozy, skanky sweat wafting off of him. Viewers will likely enjoy the way that he abuses his agent on the telephone during his many bouts of drinking and hung over mornings. He finds love and he loses love. Even after rehab and sobriety he is alone and he cannot reclaim his lost relationships, except the ones that involve other musicians. For performers that seems to be an occupational hazard, and possibly the overall theme of the movie.

A bit unrealistically, Bad Blake turns it all around and re-connects with Tommy Sweet, a risen star with whom he has toured. Tommy remembers his mentoring and invites him to try to pen the big new hit. Bad Blake does, he is redeemed, he gets the big check, but he can’t revive his relationships with his forgotten son or his music journalist lover. Of course we all feel good anyway, though I can‘t help thinking that in the real world he would have died choking on his own vomit.

The cast makes this movie work. Maggie Gyllenhaal and Colin Farrell have solid performances that rare way that doesn’t call attention to the fact they are acting. Don’t miss the Robert “Lonesome Dove” Duvall himself as Blake’s good ol’ boy pal and favorite hometown bartender who takes him to rehab (I guess that it is remotely possible). Country movie fans will like this story. I’ll go out on a limb and call it a good date movie. (Smuggle in a half pint of Jim Beam for the full effect.) I rate it five empty fifths (hiccough!).

Kevin Bolshaw