My review of SILVER LININGS PLAYBOOK (movie)

Yesterday, I commuted eight hours (round-trip)—by car, train, and taxi—to the Tribeca Screening Room in New York City just to see a movie.

The movie: SILVER LININGS PLAYBOOK.

Do you want to know what I thought of it?

I absolutely loved it.

Truly.

By phone, I’ve already told producer Bruce Cohen and director David O. Russell just how much—that I fully embrace the adaptation—thanking them for handling my debut novel with great care, and producing such a truly special film.

Not only is SILVER LININGS PLAYBOOK a funny, heartwarming adaptation—I smiled for two hours—full of first-rate wonderful performances, it’s also a great gift to the mental health community, as it takes on real, tough, important issues in an accessible way that will hopefully get people talking (and feeling more hopeful) about mental health issues. If you’ve read my work, you know that’s important to me.

The book and movie are different forms of the same story, and the juxtaposition will undoubtedly produce much fun post movie-going discussion, so read the book before November 21! 

It was quite an education to watch the story evolve from book to screenplay to finished film. The choices David made to fit the whole of my novel, which takes place in the reader’s imagination, into two hours of visual screen time were definitely smart and reminded me, over and over again, just how lucky I am to have my work adapted by a true master.

Kathy Daneman, my publicist at FSG, was there along with Daniel Piepenbring, Sarah Crichton’s assistant, and we all did a little cheer when my name appeared on the big screen. (I may or may not have done a few sky punches in the dark.) It was a moment.

THE SILVER LININGS PLAYBOOK—as many of you know—was written when I was humbly living with my in-laws, at the end of my MFA experience, when I was jobless, rapidly running out of money, spending my days writing alone in an unfinished basement, feeling so detached from the rest of the world and slightly unbalanced, desperately trying to believe that maybe—if I worked hard enough, believed in the possibility of something better, and tried to be the man I admired—just maybe there might be a silver lining for me in the future.

And so, as I sat there in the dark, gazing at the glow of the big screen, watching Bradley Cooper's Pat trying to get his life back together, trying to get a strategy, trying to believe in something positive, something bright—art and life blended in a surreal and amazing way for me.

To all of you who are currently dreaming up and writing down stories—dare to believe wildly.

Stay positive.

There’s beauty out there.

There really is.