PUNCH-DRUNK LOVE (2002)
Director: Paul Thomas Anderson
Barry Egan is an eccentric and emotionally maladjusted small business owner who's been the victim of taunting and abuse his entire life, rendering him afraid and sometimes violent. In everyday life, he keeps himself together with a polite social system where he really puts out a nice guy persona, and one can't help but feel that Barry really is a nice guy. Timid and agreeable, but still nice, and still a decent person who just happens to be misunderstood.
That is what I see in Paul Thomas Anderson's wonderfully written film. It's a story that stays on the simple side, but is still written with care, and the basic and small ideas seem big because of Sandler's casting, and because of Anderson's hilarious direction. It's a 1960's cartoon mixed with a dark drama. Heavily shaded shots of Egan's neck in the dark, back towards the camera as he plays one note on his newly acquired harmonium. Barry's world is lonely and scary, but he finds one thing he has control over: The Harmonium. He patches a torn air bag and resumes his one note playing, eventually turning his stylings to polyphony.
There'a a nice arc at work here, especially when Egan takes more responsibility and has a more defined purpose fueled by passion of a new found love interest.
With a picture filled to the top with comedy bits it sure does establish a good and emotionally moving dramatic flair, and that is where PTA is a genius. He is equally funny, mad and empathetic-yet never allows his visual sensibilities to fall by the wayside to tell his story. I miss this in his films. This may be PTA's last accessible film, and I say that throwing salt over my shoulder because this movie is strange. Very strange.
Comedy is subtle but still very visible, like when Dean's character played by Philip Seymour Hoffman is getting a haircut. He's wearing the vinyl bib, and when Barry confronts him, Dean motions to his assistant to stand down and allow him to focus his intimidation stare. While he burns a hole in Egan's face with his eyes, his pointer finger is still raised, but it's under the vinyl haircut bib, and it stays there for a long time. Mix that with the angry conviction of a bad man about to be humbled and that's a serious recipe for comedy. "That's that!"
Director: Paul Thomas Anderson
Barry Egan is an eccentric and emotionally maladjusted small business owner who's been the victim of taunting and abuse his entire life, rendering him afraid and sometimes violent. In everyday life, he keeps himself together with a polite social system where he really puts out a nice guy persona, and one can't help but feel that Barry really is a nice guy. Timid and agreeable, but still nice, and still a decent person who just happens to be misunderstood.
That is what I see in Paul Thomas Anderson's wonderfully written film. It's a story that stays on the simple side, but is still written with care, and the basic and small ideas seem big because of Sandler's casting, and because of Anderson's hilarious direction. It's a 1960's cartoon mixed with a dark drama. Heavily shaded shots of Egan's neck in the dark, back towards the camera as he plays one note on his newly acquired harmonium. Barry's world is lonely and scary, but he finds one thing he has control over: The Harmonium. He patches a torn air bag and resumes his one note playing, eventually turning his stylings to polyphony.
There'a a nice arc at work here, especially when Egan takes more responsibility and has a more defined purpose fueled by passion of a new found love interest.
With a picture filled to the top with comedy bits it sure does establish a good and emotionally moving dramatic flair, and that is where PTA is a genius. He is equally funny, mad and empathetic-yet never allows his visual sensibilities to fall by the wayside to tell his story. I miss this in his films. This may be PTA's last accessible film, and I say that throwing salt over my shoulder because this movie is strange. Very strange.
Comedy is subtle but still very visible, like when Dean's character played by Philip Seymour Hoffman is getting a haircut. He's wearing the vinyl bib, and when Barry confronts him, Dean motions to his assistant to stand down and allow him to focus his intimidation stare. While he burns a hole in Egan's face with his eyes, his pointer finger is still raised, but it's under the vinyl haircut bib, and it stays there for a long time. Mix that with the angry conviction of a bad man about to be humbled and that's a serious recipe for comedy. "That's that!"