Many, many people are going to hate "Punch-drunk Love." The fact is, though, it doesn't deserve a fraction of the ire sure to come its way. Writer and director Paul Thomas Anderson, who has skirted genius and pretentious blathering in movies like "Boogie Nights" and "Magnolia," crafted his latest film -- improbably, loosely based on an actual incident -- as a vehicle for comedian Adam Sandler. "Punch-drunk Love" focuses Sandler's good-natured manchild routine into the quirkiest of romantic comedies, one with very little comedy and even less romance but still more heartfelt than any Meg Ryan movie in recent memory.
Sandler is Barry Egan, a California plumbing supplies salesman who is shy, antisocial and mentally disturbed beyond any measure. Prone to obsessive-compulsive behavior with an occasional violent outburst, Barry is, for the first time on film, the assumed core of every other character Sandler has played: alienated and isolated within an otherwise impotent shell. Tortured by his well-meaning seven sisters, Barry reluctantly acquiesces to his sisters' wishes and goes on a blind date with pretty, awkward Lena (Emily Watson). He strikes gold: Lena finds Barry's gawky overtures at romance charming, and Barry finds himself for the first time in his life in the throes of early-stage love.
Barry, however, has his own problems. In a plot development that could single-handedly cripple the phone sex industry, Barry is stalked and blackmailed by the sleazy owner of a shady phone sex hotline (played by Philip Seymour Hoffman, cornering the market on greasy slimeball roles). Barry calls the hotline, pre-Lena, out of a desire for a basic human connection more than any sort of sexual gratification; it's a moment that comes back to haunt him, threatening to crush his burgeoning romance and the growing sense of self-worth Lena has instilled in him. Empowered by love and lots of pudding (don't ask), Barry sets out to win Lena definitively and get back at the blackmailing pornographers who threaten to take over his life.
Barry is childish, dysfunctional, possibly autistic and very possibly crazy -- all things considered, fine as a romantic lead. Sandler plays Barry like Sandler plays everything, but as harnessed by Anderson it's a force for good instead of evil. Equally impressive is Watson's Lena, sympathetic and compatible without ever condescending. It's an odd pairing that somehow works.
Anderson, for his part, provides the odd visual flourish and deliberate, almost glacial pacing that will deter as many viewers as it will attract. "Punch-drunk Love" is unmistakably a director's film, from the nearly interminable opening scene to the surreal sights of phantom car crashes and plumbing supply slapstick. "Punch-drunk Love" is as dependent on Anderson's idiosyncratic touch as it is in the chemistry between Sandler and Watson. A jarring sound mix and strange juxtapositions of light and dark further contribute to the peculiar story rhythms that mark the film as Anderson's own.
{INSERT_RELATED}"Punch-drunk Love" is a film designed to be loved or hated. It operates in its own screwed-up little world and by its own internal logic works fine, and rewards those willing to give in to that offbeat sensibility. The movie's quirks are to its credit, and while not for everyone, it treats its subjects with the same goofy enthusiasm as Barry and Lena treat their romance.
"Punch-drunk Love" opens Fri., Oct. 25 in theaters everywhere.
