rated R

Cynics, it’s claimed, are nothing but bruised romantics. In “Crazy Heart,” Bad Blake, a former country music legend turned broken-down workhorse, carries the wounds that come from life on the road in his guitar case and on stooped shoulders. “Crazy Heart” is a film about a musician, and Blake tells his life’s story in songs—regrets and missed opportunities, nights spent in dirty juke-joints and years spent drinking away whatever money he earned from his music. But thanks to Jeff Bridges’ fantastic performance as Bad, the music is secondary. The bruises surface whenever Bad picks up his guitar, but they bloom most brightly when he’s offstage, drunkenly stumbling through his house or puking behind a bowling alley. To be Bad is to live with bruises that never fade, a dull throb of pain that only whiskey and music can momentarily quell.

If any actor other than Bridges had picked up Bad’s guitar, “Crazy Heart” wouldn’t be half the movie it is. Scott Cooper directed the film and wrote the screenplay, based on the novel by Thomas Cobb. It’s a good story, but formulaic. Bad’s riding the fumes of a once-successful career. He’s gigging at bowling alleys and run-down clubs, gulping whiskey and chain smoking when he’s not onstage. He meets Jean (Maggie Gyllenhaal), a young journalist and single mom, and quickly falls for her. Of course, the booze gets in the way.

There’s more than a passing resemblance here to Darren Aronofsky’s “The Wrestler,” also about a broken-down pop culture legend struggling for redemption. But Robert Siegel’s script for “The Wrestler” was stronger, and Mickey Rourke had more material to work with in his role as Randy. “Crazy Heart” succeeds primarily because of Bridges, who can take even the most hastily sketched character and turn it into a gripping, multi-layered performance. Everything we need to know about Bad Blake comes through in the way he walks or the way he teaches Jean’s young son how to make biscuits. It’s tempting to call this a career-making performance for Bridges, but he’s already made his career with roles like this. He’s simply a joy to watch, even with all the aches, pains and indignities that Bad Blake suffers—or, maybe, because of them.

Bridges isn’t alone in the film, of course, and the rest of the cast is good, but not great. Gyllenhaal is never quite convincing as the hard-luck dame who Bad sees as his shot at a new life. She doesn’t carry any unseen weight the way Bridges does, as though she’s not quite convinced of her own past regrets. The same goes for Colin Farrell, who turns up as Bad’s hugely successful former protege—passable, but without the whiskey-soaked gravitas that Bridges possesses.

While Bridges carries “Crazy Heart,” the music helps, too. T-Bone Burnett supervised the film’s music, and Bridges sang his own songs (Bridges is a musician and released a solo album in 2000). The music is a lot like Bad himself—catchy and charming, but with a wealth of burdens and pain lurking beneath. It’s a shame there isn’t more of it; as “Crazy Heart” progresses, songwriting becomes Bad’s way out of depression and financial ruin, but we see him working on songs only a few times. The creative process is never glamorous, but here it’s so vital to Bad’s redemption that it seems essential to see him hash out some songs and get to healing.

In the music industry, there’s always room for second (and sometimes third and fourth) acts, and it’s not spoiling too much to say that Bad gets his shot at a comeback, both musically and personally. It doesn’t shake out quite as expected, and by the end of “Crazy Heart,” Bad is still feeling the bruises that have faded but will never fully heal. He doesn’t say any of this, of course, but that’s what’s good about “Crazy Heart”—Bad just knows it, and so do we.