Not all movies need to be original. “Crazy Heart” is one of those movies.

The story of a washed-up country singer (Jeff Bridges) named Bad Blake who finally decides to get his act together (thanks to the love of a good woman, of course), the film doesn’t do anything particularly new or special, and I admit that certain scenes had me rolling my eyes. I’m a reporter, and I saw the film with a friend who is both a singer-songwriter and a doctor, and so I figure that between the two of us we represented every profession depicted in the film except bartender and music agent. This led to some funny whispered asides.

“Do you ever do interviews in bed?” my friend asked, during the scene where the reporter played by Maggie Gyllenhaal interviews Bridges while drinking whiskey in his hotel room bed.

“Not usually,” I said. I then felt the need to add, “There are a lot of ethical transgressions going on in this scene.”

Or take the scene where Blake has a bad car accident, which leads, inevitably, to a conversation with his doctor, who bluntly points out what a raging alcoholic he is. “Is that how you talk to patients?” I whispered to my friend.

“That’s exactly how you have that conversation,” she said sarcastically. “Textbook.”

But once we’d gotten our yuks out of the way and settled down a bit, we were able to appreciate “Crazy Heart” for what it does well: create an unforgettable character who is redeemed through music. The film strives for, and attains, a gritty authenticity when it keeps its focus strictly on Bad Blake. It opens with a scene of him parking his beat-up truck at a bowling alley where he’s scheduled to play that night; much to his annoyance, his contract doesn’t include free drinks. He’s broke, but the clerk at the liquor store recognizes him, and gives him a bottle of whiskey. (“I want to be able to say that I bought Bad Blake a drink,” he tells Blake.)

Blake is drunk when he shows up at the bowling alley that night, and vomits out back in the middle of the closing number before returning to the stage to finish his set. (Much to my delight, this scene also provided a new pick-up line for my list of great pick-up lines: “I know the B-sides to all of your albums.” It’s right up there with “Want to see my Xbox?”)

The movie takes great pains to show us that Blake is a wreck, but that he’s also a professional, and that his professionalism increases when his venues and back-up musicians improve. At the next gig, he’s joined by a talented piano player, and he seems genuinely excited. It’s at this gig that he meets the reporter, Jean, who asks to interview him for the alternative weekly. The two fall in love, and when Blake crashes his truck, he rehabs at her place.

The film’s other major plot thread involves Blake’s protege, Tommy Sweet (Colin Farrell), who is now selling out stadiums to adoring fans. Blake resents Tommy’s success, but when the two are finally reunited, Tommy seems like a genuinely decent guy who wants to help out his old mentor. This relationship is interesting, and I would have preferred seeing more of it, perhaps at the expense of some of Blake’s scenes with Jean. Maggie Gyllenhaal is one of my favorite young actresses, but I didn’t completely buy her relationship with Blake. Never mind the ethical transgressions, I just wasn’t sure a pretty young mother with a small child would fall head over heels in love with an aging, injured, financially unstable musician. She doesn’t even seem all that fazed when Blake confesses that he has a grown son that he hasn’t seen since he was 4, which I would think would function as something of a red flag for a single mother who is trying to build a better life for her child.

Still, the two have a nice rapport, and as the film progressed it became easier to ignore the sarcastic little voice in my brain. Even so, I could have done without the use of a Child in Peril to drive home the point that Blake needs to kick drinking and face his demons in order to truly find redemption.

So, yes, the film has its share of cliches. But once you get past that, and I eventually did, you’ll see that there are many things about it that ring true. The film’s big asset is Bridges, who is terrifically shambolic in what many are saying is the finest performance of his career. (I’m sorry, but for me he’ll probably never top The Dude in “The Big Lebowski.”) Bridges keeps getting described as one of the most underrated actors working, which I don’t understand. Underrated with whom? Not me, that’s for sure. Ever since 1971’s “The Last Picture Show,” Bridges has delivered one outstanding performance after another, and if playing Bad Blake in “Crazy Heart” is what it takes to finally remove the underrated label, so be it. The other star of the film is the music, which was created by producer/songwriter T. Bone Burnett in collaboration with veteran musicians Stephen Bruton (who died in 2009) and Gary Nicholson, as well as Ryan Bingham, who has played several Albany shows, sadly unseen by me. Bingham wrote the film’s moving Oscar-nominated song, “The Weary Kind.”

By the end of the film, I was a little surprised to discover how moved I felt. Perhaps I was so busy making jokes that initially I didn’t see how well-crafted and heartfelt it really is. Whatever the case, “Crazy Heart” snuck up on me. It’s an easy film to like, flaws and all.

Got a comment? E-mail me at sfoss@dailygazette.net.