Crazy Heart (2009)

If Bad Blake, the main character of the Oscar-nominated CRAZY HEART, was a real country music icon instead of a fictional one, he would be a member of the Highwaymen. Acting great Jeff Bridges is so fantastic at playing Blake that you forget he isn't real. You can easily imagine him working with Waylon and Willy, Kristofferson and Cash.

One thing is certain, and that's the fact that Bad Blake has no place in the modern world of corporate country, the demographic-friendly and Target-sponsored artists of the day who throw a steel pedal guitar onto a pop song and wear cowboy boots to call it country. Country music used to only for those who lived it, not for those who idealized it. George Jones. Patsy Cline. Bad Blake.

"In today's world of artificial country, who's real country?" This question is posed to a half-intoxicated Blake (he's always at least half-intoxicated) by Jean Craddock, a reporter who catches up with him after a gig at a bowling alley, the type of venue a now-old-fashioned country singer like Blake is now relegated to. Blake is slow to answer, a pause followed by a little snicker precedes his response.

The answer, of course, is that Blake himself is "real country." Numbed by years of heavy drinking and hard living, his gift for songwriting has been interrupted like the rest of his life by whiskey. "Where do all the songs come from?" Jean asks him. "Life, unfortunately," he responds. He's content to sing his old songs; maybe he thinks he has nothing new to say that would be of interest to today's country fans who care more about short skirts and who's tractor is sexy.

But the bowling alley gigs are not by choice. In fact, it's the best he can do in his condition and at his current status level. Unless you count opening for Tommy Sweet. A younger protege of Blake's and current country mega-star, Sweet seems genuinely honored to have Blake opening for him. He makes every effort to tell anyone who has no idea who Bad Blake is how this man taught him everything he knows. Sweet's idolatry of Blake feels sincere enough, and even his own presentation as a performer seems more authentic than a lot of the current batch of not-quite-country artists, if you can overlook the gel in his perfectly ponytailed hair and his runway-quality stubble.

I've felt like avoiding a direct recap of the plot of CRAZY HEART because the plot itself is the film's weak point, a well-worn and frequently-told story of a washed-up, former icon trying to make a comeback, fueled by his love for a new woman in his life who knows better than to give in to his crooked charms, does, is hurt by him, wakes up and leaves him. Does this sound like "The Wrestler"? Many people think it does, myself included. And indeed, it's a bit of a shame that the story of this film isn't unique enough to take it to the next level.

But sometimes, acting can make up the difference. And as with "The Wrestler," the same is true here. Bridges is ridiculously good. As Rourke did in his film, Bridges delivers a performance that feels as if it was born from his own life. It feels like anything but acting itself. More impressive than Rourke is the fact that Blake is very different from Bridges, whereas Rourke's character didn't feel that different from his life. From the singing and guitar playing to the painful nights spent lying in his underwear on the bathroom floor, Bridges does not breach believability for a second.

And he's not the only one who makes the film worth watching! Maggie Gyllenhaal is only a surprise Oscar nominee until you actually see her performance. Then, it's no surprise at all. She is excellent here, heartbreaking and only slightly fragile. You never wonder why a woman like her would fall for a man like Blake because Gyllenhaal never allows us to let that thought creep in. She is charmed by him, and we can see it.

Colin Farrell is a surprisingly good country singer as Tommy Sweet, and Robert Duvall (who also starred in a movie as a country singer and won an Oscar for it) is in classic form in a small role. Perhaps the other great performance in this film, however, goes to the songs. Producer T Bone Burnett shaped all of these numbers and Bridges agreed to do the film only with his involvement. Given the film's mediocre and done-before story, we get the sense that only the quality of the music itself elevates the film above the average.

The musical focal point is the song "The Weary Kind," first heard in the film as Blake lays in Jean's bed after sustaining a leg injury, a result of flipping his pickup truck on a country road. It's a good song, for sure. But it becomes a great song when it makes Jean cry. She can't believe that Bad Blake is writing a song in her bed. She tells him that she won't be able to lay in her bed again without remembering that he wrote it there and hearing it in her head. Now, the song is a masterpiece.

Despite the worn plot, it should be said that CRAZY HEART does possess some great plot moments, such as when a hero-worshiping Tommy Sweet sneaks on stage to trade verses with Blake on one of his hits and, in the process, unintentionally steals much of his thunder. The innocence and joy in Farrell's eyes meets the fatigue and irritation in Bridges'. And even though Bad Blake isn't a real country artist, he's "real country."

3.0 out of 4