Xaroc,
Like most of my favorite movies, I completely understand that someone else might not like it. It’s got a very specific, perhaps rarefied, appeal.
I don’t think it’s a comedy, or even romantic, in any conventional sense. Watching it last night, I was reminded how truly dysfunctional Barry Egan is. He’s not a typical protagonist, which is part of what makes him – and Sandler’s performance – exceptional. His outbursts are kind of scary.
Instead of talking about how he feels, he discloses the pudding plot as token of trust and confidence. Instead of saying ‘I love you’, he admits ‘At the restaurant, I beat up the bathroom’. Like a superhero, he is infused with so much strength that he walks all the way from LA to Provo with a phone in his hand just to tell his antagonist that he has the strength. But not by gamma rays or genetically altered spiders – by love. Presumably, he learns to control his outbursts.
As a movie, I think Anderson did a brilliant and brave job with light, sound, and color. In the commentary track for Hard Eight, he mentions at one point how one of the lights flared up during a shot of Sidney standing over Gweneviere. It was an accident, but he left it in because it happened at a fortuitous moment that fit the action (I think he even cited Truffant as a precedent for this sort of thing). In Punch-Drunk Love, he uses this device constantly, as if it were a stage play, which is the point of the interstitial collages of color and light.
The dialogue is phenomenal. Look, for instance, at the forklift crash scene. It’s as finely crafted and choreographed as any action sequence in The Matrix, and twice as exciting because it’s character driven.
I understand that a lot of folks don’t care for it, but like The Royal Tenenbaums, I get a giddy buzz from Punch-Drunk Love. It’s a bold remarkable movie.
-Tom