One of the earlier images of Paul Thomas Anderson’s 2002 film “Punch-Drunk Love” is swaths of colors and a landscape of stars blending seamlessly under a swooning Jon Brion score — an aptly intoxicating experience for what lies ahead.
Twenty years onward, “Punch-Drunk Love” stands as a celebration of love, relishing in the fleeting moments that harken back to “Sabrina” and “The Apartment.” Anderson’s frame isn’t forbearing towards the urgency that love sometimes asks of people. It’s driven by the unimaginable strength that comes with being understood in spite of one’s flaws.
Contrasting to his latter effort, “Magnolia,” Anderson retreats to a decisive simplicity in “Punch-Drunk Love” to usher in the 21st century. Its protagonist, Barry Egan (Adam Sandler), precedes a palpable on-screen social anxiety — one rooted in the age of social media and magnified by a pandemic. But this was no accident.
For Anderson, this film is autobiographical. Like Barry, Anderson was prone to temper tantrums and outspoken in a large family, the director explained in a hotel kitchenette interview with the Guardian in 2003.
“You have to be a brat in order to carve out your parameters, and you have to be a monster to anyone who gets in your way [in Hollywood],” Anderson told the Guardian. “But sometimes it’s difficult to know when that’s necessary and when you’re just being a baby, throwing your rattle from the cage. So I can be a real arrogant, bratty prick at times. But maybe not so much now.”
Anderson found inspiration for one of the film’s B stories in a Time Magazine article from 1999. Engineer David Phillips discovered a frequent-flier promotion that enabled him to purchase three-thousand-dollars-worth of Healthy Choice pudding (or 12,150 cups) for 1.25 million air-miles. But Anderson insisted it was the opportunity to work with Sandler that gave the director a motive.
By 2002, Sandler made himself a household name with “Billy Madison,” “Happy Gilmore,” “The Waterboy,” “The Wedding Singer,” and a five-year stint on “Saturday Night Live.” Working with Anderson added an untapped depth that was waiting to be explored by Sandler.
“I wanted to work with Sandler so much,” Anderson said. “Because, if I’ve ever been kinda sad or down or whatever, I just wanna pop in an Adam Sandler movie.”
“Punch-Drunk Love” follows socially inept business owner Barry (Sandler) as he falls in love with his sister’s co-worker, Lena Leonard (Emily Watson). The director underscores the best of this cast, whether it’s Watson’s graceful decisiveness, or Phillip Seymour Hoffman’s explosive temper as Dean, the mattress salesman and extortionist who threatens Barry’s sheltered existence. The script hijacks the “boy meets girl” formula, spinning it into a refreshing and off-kiltered pursuit of love that isn’t hindered by unwarranted exposition or world-building.
Our protagonist is allowed to be exemplary of the visceral delusions of love, especially in the unpredictable milieu of Sandler, and the colors of his tie — a motif for his blossoming self-confidence. Those moments are brilliantly exacerbated by Brion’s unconventional rhythmic instrumentation. That was Anderson’s idea, according to Brion. Playing into the film’s rhythm essentially made way for a tangible, poetic pacing to a scene.
Through the film’s non-diegetic sound, however, came the immortalization of Robert Altman, one of Anderson’s greatest influences and a titan of the ‘70s period of New Hollywood.
Anderson used the song “He Needs Me,” sung by Shelley Duvall and written by Harry Nilsson from Altman’s “Popeye,” to signal emotional longing between Barry and Lena. In Mitchell Zuckoff’s oral biography of Altman, Anderson kept the needle-drop from Altman until Anderson screened “Punch-Drunk Love” for him. They got drunk together shortly thereafter.
The movie is askew in comparison to Norah Ephron and Nancy Meyers pictures from the ‘90s and ‘00s, though their contributions are immeasurable. “Punch-Drunk Love” adds another layer of dimension to this misty-eyed genre through its mutated conventions. By Barry and Lena’s last sweet embrace, Anderson orchestrates a romantic comedy of the highest and most stylized caliber.