Crazy Heart

Editorial

Great songs take root inside your head and fully reveal themselves days later, persistently increasing in power. So it is with Crazy Heart, a straight-forward coming of (old) age story, played with a strength of feeling that more than compensates for the familiar nature of the material. It is deceptively affecting; a classic both in form and quality — this year's The Wrestler.

Character actor Scott Cooper makes his debut as director with his second script, adapted from Thomas Cobb's novel. It's easy to suggest his background explains the focus on performance, the rich characters that propel the story, as slight as it is. Maggie Gyllenhaal is excellent, bringing warmth and believability to a character who could have been a cipher in lesser hands: a resilient single mum who falls for Bridges' musical hero cum father figure.

She asks Bad where his songs came from: "Life, unfortunately," is the answer. Pain, passing pleasures and regret fuel these superb songs, written largely by T Bone Burnett (O Brother, Where Art Thou?) and the late Stephen Bruton.

The film would fail without the soul of the songs — melancholic without being morose, and performed with conviction by Bridges, who is perfect as the whiskey-wracked Bad, a man for whom drink-driving isn't so much a crime as a lifestyle choice. Selfish, charismatic, charming but destructive, he's lovable and infuriating, driven by the bottle to self-loathing and self-loathing to the bottle.

There's been much talk of Bridges' Oscar chances, having been nominated four times. He's too good to be a shoo-in but he inhabits Bad completely. It's a wondrous turn, one you must see regardless of who wins. When film history is written, the Academy's tender mercies won't stop Bridges being bound for glory.

Nev Pierce