'Silver Linings Playbook'

Pat is bipolar. Tiffany is depressed.

Pat nearly beat his wife's affair to death and has just left the mental institution where he spent the last eight months. He longs for a reunion with his wife, restraining order notwithstanding.

Tiffany has developed nymphomaniac tendencies after the death of her husband and battles a severe depression.

Sounds like the newest Ken Loach? Nope, here comes David O. Russell's Hollywood rom-com in the tradition of a 30s screwball comedy. Like the flawed individuals that people this film, the latter is at odds with itself. First things first though.

Pat then returns to the family home in Baltimore in order to live with his Dad, an OCD bookie who comes to regard his son as the good luck charm his team needs to win, and his mum, a woman of near saintly patience who seems to constantly be churning out sausages and meatballs from her kitchen.

When Pat is invited to dinner by his friend Ronnie and his dominating wife Veronica ( Julia Stiles here, again superb in her signature role as the Ice Queen), he (re-)meets Tiffany. Pat has no qualms about using Tiffany as a courier to get a letter to his wife, seeing as he isn't allowed to approach her. Tiffany in turn, fully aware of being used, strikes up a deal in which she forces Pat to take part in a dance competition to be held at a local hotel.

It is rather surprising how O.Russell tries his hand at formulaic cinema, especially with the last scene gaining in immense importance and momentum through a bet placed on the outcome, the presence of an emotional rival and a public platform for the couple's blossoming romance.

This is a film that lives through smaller moments as the plot is short of ludicrous sometimes. I won't say too much, but the bet? It seems as if the screenwriters constantly tried to find solutions to narrative hiccups and the film never quite feels a unified whole and always slightly out of sync. That being said, it thrives in its careful weaving of a rich character fabric, especially in the care and attention to detail given to the supporting roles, first and foremost of course Pat's dad and mum and the relationship they have, which comes across as very real in Pat's mum's acceptance of his dad's violent streak and the latter's apologetic and absolute loving of her. Everyone in this house is a culprit, his mum for her acceptance and negligence to act, his dad for the violent outbursts which resemble his son's in a way which he fails to see and Pat, in his absolute expectancy of complete tolerance from his surroundings. At the same time, no one's guilty as his mum's passivity becomes patience, his dad's aggression is coupled with a sincere desire to connect with his estranged son and Pat's self-involvement is fueled by the will to be a better man.

It is in O. Russell's never judging his characters that the film excels. While most of the audience accepts the ludicrous plot-line of the bet as we're so used to the cinematic code of 'if it's in the plot it must be true', the directorial restraint, however, also gives the spectator the chance to follow and evolve with the characters at his/her own pace, resulting in an emotional participation rarely found in contemporary mainstream, and make no mistake, mainstream this still is.

Pat's motivation and enthusiasm are a near-scary thing to behold. Remember Tom Cruise in Magnolia? You get the same vibe from Pat here. Pat is an incredibly dislikeable character at first, obnoxious, volatile and self-centred. This does provide, however, for the funniest scenes in the film. O. Russel unobtrusively manages to let the audience warm towards this self-proclaimed self-help pseudo-psychologist in letting us discover the genuine despair and honest will for betterment behind it all. One cannot help but feel admiration when faced with a man who has such a strong will for happiness. Still, the film seems to have done better with American audiences, maybe because the very themes of self-actualization and betterment through emotional bonding just seem more embedded in the cultural fabric of the States. At the same time, scenes like Pat freaking out because he cannot find his wedding video ring uneasily true and have an anguished authenticity to it; in moments like these character-development moves away from narcissistic self-entitlement as the magnitude of Pat's day-to-day struggle of keeping it together becomes apparent. Cooper's performance is loud, but honest and, I say this in full conscience of my own arrogance, a little unexpected.

Teaming him up with Jennifer Lawrence seemed even more of an odd choice to be honest, but proved to be one of the best of the film. Lawrence is as unafraid an actress as they come, she's not only constantly in Pat's face, she's in ours too. She plays Tiffany with a brashness which is as refreshing as it is, at times, uncomfortable to watch. She throws the offer of sex in Pat's face, hiding the vulnerability which inevitably accompanies asking someone to be your friend, even in your twenties. Tiffany becomes the voice of self-acceptance: yes she's dirty, but she also likes that about herself and can he say the same thing about himself. And can we? This scene by definition should have been uncomfortable to watch, yet, wasn't. Lawrence's performance is genuine and, most importantly, never over-the-top, which is not a given, considering this role. There's an appealing sloppiness to Tiffany with her low-cut cleavage and foul mouth, as she is the only one not afraid to tackle Pat.

Her quest for something joyful takes the shape of the dance competition and O. Russell deliberately chooses to make them pretty much suck as dancers, while in a clever twist on the joyful spectacle the musical interlude, he makes us watch a scene from Singing in the Rain. It is here, that the message hits home, as while the audience accepts joyful eruption in musicals or the modern equivalent of dance films, we absolutely refuse to integrate it into daily life. Yes, the final scene was incredibly cringe-worthy to watch, mainly because of its normalcy, at the same time, however, the spectatorial mood shifted from embarrassed to cheerful and here lies the film's greatest achievement. This might seem banal, yet, it has been a long time since I was involved and not merely observing characters on screen.

It further seems as if De Niro is back on track, playing the dad with an emotionally charged intensity and, lo and behold, funny subtlety at the same time, which make his performance a joy to watch, especially in combination with the wonderful Jacki Weaver who acts almost solely with her huge eyes, filling the screen in puppy-like dismay. Then there's Chris Tucker in the role of Pat's friend Danny. He's, and I never thought I would say this about Chris Tucker, but, surprisingly low-key, yet delivers some of the funniest lines of the film. Remains for me to mention Anupam Kher as Pat's therapist, who seems to take Pat with exactly the right kind of low-beat humour the latter needs.

Yet, there's an elephant in the screening room and here I'm left in two minds about the film. As such: Can mental illness be used as romantic premise of a screwball comedy? Love as miracle cure for mental issues, self-betterment and redemption through personal discipline and emotional connection almost seem like a chapter from screen-writing 101 under the heading of character motivation. Only in Hollywood. Even accepting the argument that it might be a useful thing to depict mental illness in its most rudimentary form and remove the stigma by putting it in the context of a romance, I still cannot rid myself of a slight feeling of exploitation when it comes to the use of bi-polar disorder as character-motivation and a happy ending which seems to advocate the fact that no matter how ill you are, the puritan values of a working discipline and the following of a value system helping your re-integration as full member of society, will miraculously cure you. Just like the American ceremonial nature of sporting and sport outcomes take on a nigh-ritualistic spirit, almost standing in for a substitute of sense-making in life. As such, the film, in raising these questions, leaves an after-taste completely counter-productive to its actual outset.

The American pursuit of happiness has a darkly hysteric underside in Silver Linings Playbook and the audience becomes an emotional participant after having witnessed scenes of an accuracy so utmost it becomes painful to watch, even if never in a voyeuristic, but in a compassionate manner. The film has its merits, foremost in its all-round excellent performances and genuinely funny moments, such as my absolute favourite, the Raisin Bran scene, absurd and original. Then again, the mixed message the film conveys never really sits easy as I'm not sure if dancing and free will cure bi-polar disorder and post-traumatic depression. Soundtrack's good though.