For the last several months, I've been compiling, evaluating, and reevaluating a list of some of my favorite films or (alternatively) films that have stuck with me the most over the years. Each of these films fall into one of two categories, for various and/or specific: those I believe are landmarks, and those that are very personal to me. Paul Thomas Anderson's 2002 feature film Punch-Drunk Love falls into this latter category.
Written and directed by Anderson, and featuring Adam Sandler in arguably his best screen performance to date, the story (often profane, strange, unpredictable, and effectively mesmerizing) follows a small novelty business owner named Barry Egan (Sandler), who suffers from obsessive-compulsive anger and insecurities, who constantly tries to dodge his seven nagging sisters, and who seems to be on a quest for meaning. Things get complicated when he falls victim to the extortion schemes of a phone sex operator and a mattress store owner (Philip Seymour Hoffman). But his life begins to take a detour when he meets a mysterious woman named Lena (Emily Watson) and, therefore, slowly blooms and takes on new meaning.
Typically, Adam Sandler doesn't make films for the industry or for Academy accolades. (He has, however, confessed that he once thought Billy Madison was going to get recognized at the Oscars.) And despite much of his filmography's lowbrow qualities and lack of critical praise (and let's be honest, Sandler has made some awful movies in his career), his movies have nevertheless generated countless fans and iconic status over the years, with their instantly quotable and idiosyncratic trademarks ("Are you too good for your home, ball?!?" from Happy Gilmore). Not to mention contributions of his musical and singing talents, and not just silly voices and sound effects, since his days as a Saturday Night Live cast member. Some could even make possible debates over whether these movies qualify as smart dumb comedies or just dumb-but-funny comedies in general. The late film critic Roger Ebert once wrote of Sandler, "He can't go on making those moronic comedies forever, can he?"
Sandler has, however, proven (when paired with the right filmmaker and given the right material) that he is capable of in-depth, serious and genuine roles when he chooses, whether working with directors like Judd Apatow, Noah Baumbach, Mike Binder, James L. Brooks, or Jason Reitman. Even before working with Anderson, Sandler did begin to show traces of a softer, more grounded side in such comedies as The Wedding Singer and Big Daddy. And that seems to be the case again this year, based on early buzz and critical word-of-mouth, for his electrifying performance in the Safdie Brothers' new intense drama Uncut Gems.
For me, Sandler's performance as Barry Egan in Anderson's film is the most personal one for me.
And here are seven reasons why.
1. First and foremost, the very idea of "an arthouse Adam Sandler film" (as Anderson describes Punch-Drunk Love) was, at first, crazy, and reportedly made members of the press laugh. When the film premiered at the Cannes Film Festival (where Anderson won the Best Director award) in 2002, however, the naysayers were astounded, as well as by Anderson's idiosyncratic approach. I'll say it again, this is Sandler's most effective and relatable role to date. At the time, film critic Richard Roeper considered Punch-Drunk Love "a radical departure" for Sandler, and claimed the actor was "something to behold" in the film. In middle school, my class voted me as "most likely to be the next Adam Sandler." Even Barry Egan and I have the same initials.
2. Barry is a character who comes from a family of seven sisters -- complicated, dysfunctional relationships, to be sure. As a member of a big family myself, my family relationships aren't like Barry's in the film, but there are mental complexities and anxieties that I identify with, and which so many families go through, let's be honest.
3. One of the film's subplots involves Barry making trips to the grocery store (my longest job to date) to buy cheap Healthy Choice pudding and stack up on a frequent flyer miles promotion from American Airlines. Usually, Sandler's films use product placement, often shamelessly, similar to what Michael Bay does in his own films (we're looking at you, Transformers franchise). What makes Punch-Drunk Love an exception is that said products are part of the film's plot, and not there just to be there.
4. Speaking of flying, the year I first saw this film was the same year I flew a plane for the first time (as Barry does in the film). One YouTube video even went as far as discussing and analyzing how Barry Egan's story parallels Superman's.
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| "You can go to places in the world with pudding. That is funny." |
5. Another challenging and eye-opening aspect of Punch-Drunk Love is how the story presents polar opposite examples of "love". On one hand, there's the kind that is misguided and damaging, as Barry falls victim to the aforementioned phone sex line. (To its credit, the film doesn't condone this story element, but rather presents it as manipulative and devoid of real connection and emotion, as well as an example of searching for understanding and meaning in the wrong places.) On the other hand, there's the kind that is real and genuine, if strange, when Barry meets Lena. One of the song lyrics on the film's soundtrack reads,
You got to hope that there's someone for you, as strange as you are.
One of the film's subtler themes (at least, according to one review of the film) is the fear of whether those you love will still love you if they knew who you really were, as well as the theme of being real with others, which is what real relationships involve.
6. Anderson's filmmaking is very cinematic, artful, original, and daring. The film's use of color (including interludes by artist Jeremy Blake, as well as the prominent blue in Barry's wardrobe) and composer Jon Brion's offbeat, Baroque-style score (including the central harmonium Barry finds in the street at the film's opening, and even Harry Nilsson's Popeye song "He Needs Me" sung by Shelley Duvall), for one, represent varied emotions and even explosive bursts of color, such as anger, humility, loneliness, self-doubt, insecurity, worry, weakness, and later strength. Many were (and still are) put off by the unconventional and supposedly-experimental use of these elements. I didn't like the film the first time I saw it, due to the aforementioned elements combined, but it grew on me over time, and I connected with it more from there. That being said, there is poetry in the film's imagery, and in its simple-yet-ambitious story, in a way combining elements of fantasy (more emotional fantasy, actually) and reality.
7. In his book "Into the Dark: Seeing the Sacred In the Top Films of the 21st Century," author and Christian pop culture analyst Craig Detweiller discusses a theological term known as "general revelation," which "suggests that God can speak through anyone or anything at anytime," whether it was the intention of the filmmaker or not. Detweiller adds, "The fervent discussions that swirl around [such films, like those of Anderson's, like the imagery of raining frogs in Magnolia] suggest that people with and without faith commitments find them to be occasions of searing insight, surprising comfort, and unexpected grace." Furthermore, "Movies serve religious functions for filmgoers, offering them time for contemplation, a change in perspective, a glimpse of the divine." Punch-Drunk Love fits these claims perfectly, displaying unexpected universal themes in a small-though-ambitious love story.
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