The more time you sit absorbing 2002’s Punch-Drunk Love, the more the film’s elements begin to take a toll on you. Retrospective analysis reveals the reason why the romantic dramedy , written and directed by Paul Thomas Anderson, is named after the boxing term for being repeatedly hit over the head. The deeply saturated blue color scheme, long takes and distorted transitions are just a few of the cinematic techniques working together to create a visceral visual experience.
The film turns 20 this year and, though made long before the distancing and isolation of the pandemic, its themes align well with the current state of things. You’ll find newfound relevance in the central characters’ struggle with confronting the world and finding confidence to be themselves after spending years closed off or in various states of physical and mental hibernation.
Barry Egan (a then-career high for Adam Sandler) is an awkward and lonely man drifting through life in the drabber portions of the San Fernando Valley. He’s socially anxious and goes through bouts of self-loathing that manifest in outbursts, often violent. When he goes to a birthday for one of his seven sisters, they reminisce about teasing him and calling him “gay boy.” Building tension with a series of almost excessively long takes, the camera suddenly jumps outside a set of sliding glass patio doors as he shatters each of three panels with a kick. It’s a thrill to feel his blood boil, yet his rage is still shocking.
Living on the fringes of society, Barry runs a small business in a generic and bland warehouse selling “fungers” (fun toilet plungers), which seems to be just enough for him to get by. Barry is making a call during the opening sequence before a car spirals and flips outside of his office. In shock, he stands as he often does with a stupefied look and his thermos in hand; a van door then aggressively slides open and hands drop a harmonium before him. The abandoned instrument is never explained, but its presence becomes the most prominent symbol for the love that blossoms for the rest of the film.
These motifs are much of what make the film feel so original and fresh two decades later. The use of the color blue—often associated with feelings of calmness and relaxation—can also easily be flipped to melancholy. For a musical depiction of blue emotion, think of Joni Mitchell’s 1971 album Blue. Barry wears a bright blue suit and white shirt he recently purchased just because he liked it, a revealing touch of sweetness to his damaged character. As Barry moves from sad to enamored, the mood of the color scale changes, and he begins to look all the better in the outfit his sisters and coworkers poked fun at him for buying.
After breaking down at his sister’s birthday party, he asks his brother-in-law to help him find a therapist. He admits he hates himself, and cries a lot. Before finding help, he calls a phone sex line and eventually is scammed and threatened by the mob-like Dean Trumbell (another powerful performance by the late Philip Seymour Hoffman) running the operation behind the scenes of his Utah mattress store. Then with timing that could only happen in Hollywood, the day after he makes the fateful call, the woman who dropped her car off for the mechanic the day before turns out to be a friend of his sister’s. Lena (Emily Watson), intrigued by Barry after seeing him in a photo, is soft-spoken, though a bit more optimistic and glowing. Their story is one of instant infatuation: she’s enamored and he’s reeling from the onset of lust. As the relationship develops, the moments of chaos become less difficult to watch, even though Barry is increasingly threatened by the scammers.
Punch-Drunk Love utilizes Sandler’s familiarity and comic timing to give the film a recognizable figure seen in a completely new light. Barry is a more subdued and serious role than most of Sandler’s popular films, and was the most dramatic part he’d take on until 2019’s Uncut Gems. If you feel as though you lost him somewhere in the mid-‘00s amid movies like Grown Ups or Jack and Jill, he’ll remind you of his talent here. As Barry’s sisters marry, have children and plan family dinners for each other’s birthdays, Barry remains solo. When he finally connects with Lena, he becomes a new person. All the while Sandler plays the role by coordinating small facial movements, standing stiff and holding himself like a wallflower.
The film was a short and sweet departure after the heavy, three-hour Magnolia. The 90-minute run time is a welcome change, and Sandler’s performance make moments of darkness feel less heavy. Two decades on, the film stands out as one of the more lighthearted in Anderson’s filmography, perhaps until his most recent Licorice Pizza. The character of Barry, 20 years on, is a case study for someone who outsmarts the system to find himself in love and ready for adventure. His delicate character is nuanced alongside Thomas’ virtuoso direction and the stratified cinematography. It’s escapist cinema, and rich art, and it might help you give yourself a break as you struggle to adjust to the chaos of post-pandemic life.
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