I refused to watch this movie based on the trailer alone. Bradly Cooper hurling a book out a window because he didn't agree with the ending completely put me off. There's mixed messages for the most part, but if you think your physician can play a "trigger" song in the reception of his office to "see if you are still able to be triggered", and that same doctor will be all buddy buddy with you at a football game, then you're an idiot. There are elements to its "depiction" of mental illness that sort of act like vague references to someone who has an equally vague understanding or outsider experience of mental illness. Maybe you did live with someone volatile and prone to rage outbursts who was later diagnosed. Maybe they did keep you up with their obsessive ramblings. But maybe they were just a jerk, and maybe Bradley Cooper's character, Pat, is in some part, a fucking jerk. I wanted to give Jennifer Lawrence all the passes since she got famous, because she's as caustic and flippant as I am about the notion of fame, but she was playing to a gallery in this, with her quirkiness on parade, and she's failed so far to present a human being who's also a sex addict. No, she's just a quirky sex addict whose addiction stems from a single trauma concerning her deceased husband. Sorry, sexual addiction is actually a bit more complex than that, and people aren't as open about it as she claims to be. The leads sharing notes over dinner on medication makes this facet of mental illness look like an "in-club" the normies will never get a pass to. These exaggerations clearly come from the writer's understanding of mental illness, which is limited. You can't really humanise someone with this condition (bipolar) by making them eccentric and lacking in the basic social graces and modes their healthier alternates (normies) have.
And De Niro as a superstitious football lover? Who's actually more insane than his formally diagnosed son? How about no. You might find an a trend with families who have a mentally ill loved one, that they tend to use that person and their issues as a way of avoiding their own. It seems truer in this than any other film, so yes, I'll call for a degree of accuracy in this. You think for all of Cooper's behaviour, the parents would want him out, but the dad is obsessed with keeping home as a "lucky charm" to hide his own want to bond with his son. I don't hate De Niro. I think he does okay with comedy. Jacki Weaver gets the neurotic mother who's trying to patch it all up with a smile and how else are you meant to play this part in Hollywood? We don't get the mother who's actually well adjusted and capable of dealing with their mentally ill progeny? Apparently not. I've not seen Ordinary People, but I'm going to assume now that all mothers of mentally ill characters are different versions of her. This role isn't a stretch for anyone, Weaver does it well, but it's bordering on stereotypical.
Admittedly I'm doing this as I'm running into the third act of this movie. There's these unrealistic twists, and now I see the writer/director was responsible for I Heart Huckerbees, a movie I enjoyed but knew was an exaggerated exploration of existentialism. This is supposed to be a movie about real people with real issues, and you've taken the quirk from that film and injected it where it doesn't really belong, in order to make Playbook a comedy. The "bet" seems to be to add tension and stakes to a movie that's only other stakes hinge on a letter from Pat to his ex, who's distanced herself for logical reasons. And somehow, it fooled the Oscar crowds and all of America as a genuine, feelgood film with an accurate portrayal of mental illness.
It's garbage because the story isn't realistic enough to coincide with the supposed realism associated with the mental illness factor. Do you see people this fucking attractive having these kinds of arguments in public? No, you see winos shouting and screaming, and they may be mentally ill, but they're also drunk. Sane people have arguments in bars this explosive, and there aren't any people coming to take them to the fucking loony bin, they go to the drunk tank.
I'm fine with no representation of my condition (manic episodes being included in this) over a fuzzy, semi-real representation that is pinned on a heavily flawed, nearly unlikable character you're struggling to root for. You don't like the family so you don't care they're about to lose everything on a parlay bet because no sane person would bet all their money on a football game, never mind that AND a dance contest. (Yes, I have heard of people losing their houses from a gambling addiction, but I thought this was slowly over time, not in one fell swoop). You don't like the leads because they shout too fucking much and embarrass themselves and everyone around them.
So many of us are hiding this level of rage and frustration from the public, usually because of movies like this. When we're doing okay, and we know how we are when we're not, we're working towards staying that way because there's no joy or benefit in being sick. Don't believe anyone who says they gain from their illness. We don't meddle like this in other people's lives unless we're also sociopaths. And even those who have abandonment issues have good reason for it, and are acting on this with no real intent to genuinely hurt anyone. Unless we're maligned in other ways, you'll find a huge majority of us are hurting ourselves first before we hurt others. And yes, our hurting does hurt others, and we're trying not to. So I can't abide movies with characters who don't work on their illness or shun medication. I can't tolerate or agree with films who misrepresent doctors and their actions. (So I can't give Donnie Darko a pass with the director's cut because he's been given placebos the whole time. Again. No.)
Okay, yes, Playbook isn't Cuckoo's Nest, everyone's favourite benchmark for mental illness movies. But it's not entirely accurate, or helpful. It has some heart to it, but not enough for you to love these characters, flaws or no. And having a little uplifting dance routine would've been great if I liked the two leads and had been laughing for the rest of the film, and cheering them on to get together. Two sick people, in reality, can't have a relationship based on their illnesses. I couldn't date or live with someone as sick as me. It would be toxic no matter how much we loved one another. You can bond over the struggles if you have other common interests, but these two don't. Not really. Marissa Tomei saying "He doesn't make sense, I don't make sense. Together we make sense" sounds lovely in theory, but fucking nightmarish in practice if you're dealing with a fucked up illness on both sides. I can deal with someone who's anxious, or depressed. I don't think I could deal with someone who has what I have. Full disclosure.
Ugh, the Dirty Dancing flub is also painful and awkward. I'm still struggling to get through this, but they only have to score a 5 average to win the bet so.... it can be moderately shit, and the punchline... WAS THE ONLY THING I LAUGHED AT. It's all tied up in a nice bow as per How to Write a Rom Com 101. It's a very predictable story, even the big reveal of the film concerning the letter business isn't that shocking if you hadn't seen it coming in the shots and subtext.
Oh, and boy is this filmed like a crazy person shot it. No, in fairness, it makes sense. Stylistically, I'll give it a pass. All the frenetic closeups and camera shifts and tilts simulate the perception of a person experiencing mania. And when all is calm and balanced, the shots represent this shift in tone. But it's also overplayed. You can represent chaos without a series of confusing focus shots and cuts and Dutch angles. It could've reeled that in and I'd still have gotten the point. So it wasn't clever or useful to the narrative. I know it's hard to see through the eyes of a crazy person unless you are crazy yourself, but I think if I'd paid more attention, the frenetic shooting would've given me motion sickness, and I do have legit queasy cam. So this is all I can say in its thin defense.
Well done to all involved. You've failed to make a comedy, a romance or a drama, or a realistic and fair depiction of mental illness.
Where's my silver lining? I don't feel good. I'm angry and you promised me a feelgood movie.
1/5
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