Bridges gives a career-defining performance in "Crazy Heart" (Fox Searchlight/
Lorey Sebastian)

Sometimes there's a man, and right now that man is Jeff Bridges. After a career that has gotten him four Oscar nominations and no wins, at 60 years old, Bridges now stands as the frontrunner for the Best Actor Oscar for his role as Bad Blake in the film "Crazy Heart." And with good reason. Bridges gives a career-defining performance in the film. With the help of a wonderful supporting cast and a soundtrack that runs through the movie like a heartbeat, Bridges is able to suffuse a fairly straightforward story with power, passion, and subtlety that bring it to a higher level than the writing alone merits.

In his turn as broken-down country singer Blake, Bridges heaves himself across the American southwest from gig to gig like a weary gunslinger whose world has moved on without him. A drunk with the tendency to throw up mid-set, his career and reputation have been brought so low he has been reduced to playing bowling alleys--where he is told he can't run a bar tab. He grumbles and looks disdainfully at the seedy motel rooms and teenaged back up bands he is stuck with, but Bad can't bring himself to do the one thing that could spell redemption: write new songs. He has grown accustomed to the endless cycle of booze, dive bars and aging groupies and fits in with his surroundings with his dirty clothes, protruding belly, and wheezing Chevy Suburban.

Bad is well on the way to coasting to the end of his career on the fading fame of his old albums until he meets Jean Craddock (a lovely and capable Maggie Gyllenhaal), a fan and aspiring writer in Santa Fe who gives in cautiously to his gruff charm after he gives her the line, "I want to talk about how bad you make this room look." Bad's relationship with Jean, and especially her 4-year-old son, breathes new life into him, leading to a predictable chance at newfound happiness.

Also essential to Bad's development is his relationship with protégé-turned-country star Tommy Sweet, played with charm and compassion by Colin Farrell. Bad Blake was never able to fit into the corporate image machine that is modern country music, and his feelings of betrayal at Sweet's success--shown early on through conversations with his L.A.-based manager regarding a collaborative album between the two and his refusal to discuss him with Jean--are revealed to be based on nothing but his frustrations at his own failings once the two meet up for a show. While Bad wears his slovenly paisley shirts, cowboy hat and sunglasses like daily reminders of every dark bar he's ever bellied up to, Sweet, with his tan, black shirt unbuttoned just so, and slicked back pony tail, looks like a countrified Ken Doll but treats Bad with deference and obviously wants the best for his mentor. One of the most touching scenes in the movie comes when Sweet joins Bad onstage for a duet. The mutual respect evident between the two speaks of a deeper love than Bad shares with anyone else in the film. Robert Duvall, one of the movie's producers, also shows up as one of Bad's buddies, and is delightful as usual.

And then there's the music. Songwriters T. Bone Burnett and Ryan Bingham have created a sound for Bad Blake that fits the character so well, you agree completely with Jean when she swears she's heard the song that Bad is working on like a dog gumming a bone as he lazes on her bed, even though it's new. Like he says, the great ones are always like that. The music is homey and forlorn and sounds worn in, and the audience is treated to performances by Bridges that feel so authentic, you can almost smell the stench of his whiskey breath as he bobs and weaves his way across the stage. It's his love for music and his talent for songwriting, which starts bubbling up as soon as his relationship with Jean starts blooming, that makes this character worth a second chance. And it's Bridges' understanding of this man and his flaws that makes this film great.

First time director Scott Cooper knows how to shoot a sweeping American vista, and has a firm grasp on making an audience feel that they are watching a live music performance, but the movie belongs to Bad Blake. Bridges wears this character as comfortably as the scruffy beard and scuffed up cowboy boots sported by Bad. He makes Bad a character to root for despite his flaws, and turns what could have been a cheap ending into something you want to believe in.