Love & Mercy

Continuing the 2014 trend of inventively structured, above-average biopics comes Love and Mercy. The film chronicles two key times in the life of Brian Wilson, the brilliant but troubled musician, singer, songwriter, producer, and Beach Boys co-founder. Screenwriters Oren Moverman and Michael Alan Lerner capture the essence of the legendary music industry figure by focusing on the dichotomy between Wilson at the height of his creative powers in 1960 (played by Paul Dano), and the lost, traumatized Wilson (played by John Cusack) who came back from suicide under the mind-control of the Svengali-like psychotherapist Dr. Eugene Landy (Paul Giamatti).

The fact that Dano and Cusack apply opposite approaches to starring in a biopic would normally work against the film, but in this case it makes it all the more interesting. The fact that Wilson seems like a totally different man in each half of the picture gets right to the heart of one of the reasons he is such a fascinating individual. Dano goes with the immersive, method actor route—all but becoming the young Wilson by gaining weight, learning to play piano, and transforming his voice and mannerisms. Cusack takes the movie-star path and finds the characteristics the older Wilson shares with his own screen persona; ands shapes the role into one that fits him perfectly. Both performances are terrific, as is Elizabeth Banks as Wilson’s second wife and savior Melinda Ledbetter.

Since this is an authorized biopic, director Bill Pohlad has full access to all of Wilson’s and the Beach Boys’ music—not just the songs but also the original master tapes. Because of this, when we see scene of Wilson in the studio recording the classic albums “Pet Sounds” and “Smile,” we’re hearing the actual tracks from the actual sessions. These scenes of Wilson working are worth the price of admission on their own. That such an insightful screenplay and such distinctive performances surround them makes Love and Mercy an even greater treat.