Opens today
In 1999, David Phillips discovered that by buying Healthy Choice pudding for 25 cents a pop, he could cheaply accumulate vast amounts of frequent flyer miles the company offered with proofs of purchase. As a result, he traveled up and down California, spending around $3,000 on pudding to accrue over a million miles.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, while inspired by this true story that's weaved in "Punch-Drunk Love," Director Paul Thomas Anderson must have realized only a total whackjob or a loser would imagine pulling off such a scheme.
And that's exactly where Adam Sandler comes in. In "Punch-Drunk Love," Barry Egan, the character Sandler plays, does exactly what Phillips did. Except unlike the civil engineer who visited 16 different countries, Egan has stacks of pudding and nowhere to go. He's a bored loser. But in this film, Anderson creates a highly eccentric story that humorously shows what love-inspired determination can do. And Sandler, who's no stranger to playing deranged dudes, carries the movie in one of his most memorable roles since Happy Gilmore.
Barry Egan has issues, the term normal people use for guys who smash glass-paneled doors and tear up bathrooms when they're angry. His existence is his small, wholesale business in a building that resembles a public storage facility. Although his sisters, all seven of them, care for him, they never miss the opportunity to berate Barry. At dinner, one of them reminds him,
"We were just talking about you. . We used to call you 'gay boy.'"
And his social life is nothing to speak of. In fact, Egan lands in hot water when his phone sex tryst goes awry, when he refuses to give in to extortion attempts by the operator of the seedy business, Dean Trumbell (Phillip Seymour Hoffman).
Drawing in audience sympathy with his innocent portrayal of Barry, Sandler effectively sums up his problems:
"I don't know if there is anything wrong (with me). Because I don't know how people are."
But as the same old story goes, along comes a girl, and a person's whole world turns around. In Barry's case, it's Lena Leonard (Emily Watson).
Of course this is standard fare for Sandler films. From an uneducated lowlife in "Billy Madison" to a small-town simpleton in "Mr. Deeds," Sandler has consistently played the loveable outsider that winds up with a girl out of his league.
But just in case anyone hasn't been tipped off by the glowing reviews, "Punch-Drunk Love" is not a typical Sandler comedy. Anderson, who won "Best Director" honors at the Cannes Film Festival earlier this year for this film, relies on two story elements he has used in past films like "Boogie Nights" and "Magnolia": the fusion of low, Dirk Diggler-inspired situations contrasted with high-minded artistic symbols, as well as the odd ways disparate people connect.
For instance, "Punch-Drunk Love" is immediately appealing with its forays in raw, funny dialogue, like this little snippet Barry has with his phone-sex kitty. She asks him:
"Are you stroking it now?"
"No, I'm not."
"'Cause your c---'s getting hard."
"I don't even know what it's doing down there."
But like the frogs in "Magnolia," Anderson tosses in objects meant to represent and allude to deeper aspects in the story or the characters' lives. In this case, it comes in the form of a harmonium, a small organ-like instrument Barry picks up off the street and plunks on his office table. Its constant appearance, combined with psychedelic scene changes, lets the audience know this is all supposed to mean something deep. What it represents, of course, is up to the viewer.
The offbeat nature of the film is compounded by Barry's interest in Lena, who, unlike him, is confident, doesn't hold back her emotions and travels everywhere. Of course, opposites attract, but moviegoers will wonder what exactly Lena sees in Barry. The film never really bothers to indulge too much in her side of the relationship, but it's satisfying enough that Watson holds her own. And she never really played normal girls.
The love story is designed for Barry's perspective. Punch-drunk means to act bewildered, and the term is derived from boxers who took one too many blows to the head. Sandler, who receives his share of physical abuse in the movie, certainly captures this idea. In one instance, he wants to give Lena a goodnight kiss. But he ends up running up and down her apartment hallway because he forgot where her room was located.
Sandler's vulnerable side melds with his in-your-face humor, with great lines like "I'm looking at your face, and I just want to smash it. I want to smash it with a sledgehammer."
Out of context, this sounds like a threat, but it actually occurs in one of the film's most tender scenes. It doesn't come off as awkward; "Punch-Drunk Love" is smart enough to combine romance, violence and humor into a believable situation.
