You are the first person I've seen to express such extreme distaste for "The Hurt Locker." And while I agree that we shouldn't give positive reviews just because everyone else has, I'm really surprised you found so little to value in this film.
Thank you, dearest commenter. I will continue to intrepidly explore whatever odd caveat I see fit. And considering the fact that Crazy Heart was lauded to no end recently, we should probably start there.
First off, I should like this movie. It’s about music, it has the Dude in a staring role and he’s soused for the majority of the feature. But after about the first thirty minutes or so, we should all be able to figure out what’s going to happen at the end. There has to be some sort of redemption. Hollywood wouldn’t have crafted a downer film and then handed it a few awards. That just doesn’t happen.
Anyhow, over the course of the film’s first few scenes viewers are given a brief overview of Bad Blake’s career. Yes, that’s the character’s name and no it’s not a joke. But the movie soon turns into one. Apart from that fully awful name, Bridges’ character soon pukes a bit in the middle of a performance and then puts it to one of the disgusting, cut rate groupies that hangs around. So, the character’s established.
Blake’s next gig finds him in the company of a much younger Maggie Gyllenhaal character, who wants to get an in-depth interview for the paper that she’s working for. There’re a variety of complications, involving time, other groupies and Blake’s worsening health. It appears that the road weary musician is going to be saved by this scribe, who has a young son that the guitarist gets along well with. Further complications ensue
Blake’s drinking gets in the way. And so up until this point of the film, the narrative that’s been revealed is going to appeal to NASCAR fans and a number of conservatives. Country music and sad stories do that. But the increased play that Blake’s artistic side gets in the second half of the film is going to appeal to woefully liberal audience out there that’re collectively suckers for artist biopics. Granted, Blake isn’t a real character, but none of this felt too detached from Ray or any number of other recent music flicks.
Further on, after that creative outburst that allows Blake some financial stability, he winds up reconciling with his musical protégé and does well for himself. He’s all cleaned up and pretty like. Although he still doesn’t have the woman he loves. To wrap it all up nicely in true Hollywood fashion the conclusion of the film finds the two former lovers in each other’s company. Grand. I won’t let you know how it all ends exactly, but it’s worth figuring that Blake’s resurrected his career already and lightning doesn’t strike twice, even in Hollywoodland.