Punch-Drunk LoveTrue love gives you strength...a strength to not only defend the one you love, but your self-worth. Courage to make the leap, the plunge into the unknown, shaking in fear, because all the other alternatives don't matter anymore. Punch-Drunk Love is the story of Barry Egan (Adam Sandler), a mild-mannered entrepreneur of novelty plungers--strictly small time right now--who humdrum life is suddenly shaken one morning at the warehouse he calls his office when a mysterious, miniature piano (in actuality, an instrument called a harmonium) is left on his doorstep, the first of many strange events as Barry begins to discover his love and his inner strength.
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Written and directed by Paul Thomas Anderson, Punch-Drunk Love is a romantic comedy; however, it is a story about an emotionally stunted man, who has spent a lifetime enduring embarrassment and humiliation, notably from his seven venomous and pesky sisters, who browbeat and antagonize him, bullying him in public and private. He finds no acceptance in those who are supposed to love him; I suspect that this is why he spends so much time in his other office, in a garage adjacent to the work site where he contacts clients by phone, looking for any kind of connection. The piano in the street is a mystery, but it is prefaced by a sudden car accident, explosive and jarring. In fact, there are lots of immediate and loud sounds and surprise action in Punch-Drunk Love, alluding to the deep-seated anxiety Barry feels, not to mention his periodic outbursts of rage when the frustration becomes to great to bear. Barry finds some sense of accomplishment in being able to exploit a loophole in an offer for frequent flier miles by purchasing large quantities of pudding, with the intention of redeeming the barcodes for enough miles to last a lifetime; but Barry doesn't travel and has never flown on a plane. Still, the pudding, the piano, and the sudden appearance of a young woman--who we later learn is named Lena Leonard (Emily Watson)--are like small points of light, like the stars in the sky for Barry, giving him a spark of something better than what he has been forced to choke down in life. Barry seems so milquetoast that when he finally explodes at his sister's birthday party--smashing the windows in a rage--it is not as though we blame him, but that we just couldn't expect this quiet man in his ubiquitous blue suit to go on a rampage; but Barry does. And why not? Barry gets so thoroughly abused that shouldn't his actions be justifiable? But the problem is that like all kinds of violent rage, it's just not going to solve the problem. Barry knows he needs help--someone to talk to--but makes the unfortunate decision to seek consultation from a phone sex operator in lieu of psychiatric care. Georgia (Ashley Clark) scams Barry into giving up his personal information at the behest of her sleazy boss and mattress salesman, Dean (Philip Seymour Hoffman), who is planning to extort money from him by exploiting his participation in such a slimy enterprise, even though all Barry wants is an ear to listen. It might sound like this con group operating out of Provo, Utah is trying to turn his "fantasy" into a nightmare...but it's not even Barry's fantasy; he just wants someone to listen.
For Barry, control is a problem; he loses it when he feels powerless and humiliated, and he relinquishes it too easily, conditioned to avoid confrontation, and even risk itself. Lena changes things; she is the one who asks Barry out on a date--quite boldly, considering it's in front of his employees--since it's clear he's interested but too anxious to ask directly. Barry reminds me of Dustin Hoffman's character, Benjamin Braddock, from The Graduate, even down to the discomfort they exhibit wearing a suit--like boys playing at being men. Lena is a surprisingly understanding and accepting partner for Barry, a novelty not just in his life, but a crucial component of any relationship worth its salt. After all, Barry does lie to her several times, like the story about "throwing a hammer through a glass window" and his "business trip to Hawaii". As Barry is harried and mugged by a quartet of thugs in Dean's employ--on the off chance they might extort more money from him by kidnapping him and forcing him to withdraw money from his ATM--Barry's decision to solve all his problems is to follow Lena to Hawaii, a chance to escape his pursuers, but more importantly to be with the woman who was good enough to tell him she wanted to kiss him, but was herself too afraid to do so at the time. Things seem sunny for the pair, until they return to California, and a vicious altercation forces Barry's hand, his fury stoked at the prospect of harm befalling the woman he loves, his fears subdued in totem in a single bright moment. But Barry's problems aren't to be solved by violence; they aren't even all solved by love, but it gives him the motivation to try harder. Punch-Drunk Love serenades us with the crooning of none other than Shelley Duvall via a musical selection from Robert Altman's adaptation of Popeye, a song called "He Needs Me" by Harry Nilsson. It may seem a strange choice, but a perfect pairing, not unlike Barry and Lena; and Barry needs Lena. Maybe we all need someone, and we don't know it until they're in our lives.
Recommended for: Fans of a quirky and off-beat romantic comedy about a man with anger management issues who comes to understand a different kind of inner strength through the love of a woman. It is a sweet, weird, and yet wholly engaging tale of love for the oddballs; in other words, real people with real problems, like you and me.
For Barry, control is a problem; he loses it when he feels powerless and humiliated, and he relinquishes it too easily, conditioned to avoid confrontation, and even risk itself. Lena changes things; she is the one who asks Barry out on a date--quite boldly, considering it's in front of his employees--since it's clear he's interested but too anxious to ask directly. Barry reminds me of Dustin Hoffman's character, Benjamin Braddock, from The Graduate, even down to the discomfort they exhibit wearing a suit--like boys playing at being men. Lena is a surprisingly understanding and accepting partner for Barry, a novelty not just in his life, but a crucial component of any relationship worth its salt. After all, Barry does lie to her several times, like the story about "throwing a hammer through a glass window" and his "business trip to Hawaii". As Barry is harried and mugged by a quartet of thugs in Dean's employ--on the off chance they might extort more money from him by kidnapping him and forcing him to withdraw money from his ATM--Barry's decision to solve all his problems is to follow Lena to Hawaii, a chance to escape his pursuers, but more importantly to be with the woman who was good enough to tell him she wanted to kiss him, but was herself too afraid to do so at the time. Things seem sunny for the pair, until they return to California, and a vicious altercation forces Barry's hand, his fury stoked at the prospect of harm befalling the woman he loves, his fears subdued in totem in a single bright moment. But Barry's problems aren't to be solved by violence; they aren't even all solved by love, but it gives him the motivation to try harder. Punch-Drunk Love serenades us with the crooning of none other than Shelley Duvall via a musical selection from Robert Altman's adaptation of Popeye, a song called "He Needs Me" by Harry Nilsson. It may seem a strange choice, but a perfect pairing, not unlike Barry and Lena; and Barry needs Lena. Maybe we all need someone, and we don't know it until they're in our lives.
Recommended for: Fans of a quirky and off-beat romantic comedy about a man with anger management issues who comes to understand a different kind of inner strength through the love of a woman. It is a sweet, weird, and yet wholly engaging tale of love for the oddballs; in other words, real people with real problems, like you and me.