Paul Giamatti slouches toward greatness in Barney’s Version

Rich, rambling film has the texture of a great novel

At a Montreal bar called Grumpy’s, retired Constable O’ Hearne (Mark Addy) presents schlubby TV producer Barney Panofsky (Paul Giamatti) with a gift: O’Hearne’s newly published true crime tome about Barney’s involvement in an unsolved murder. The cop-turned-author autographs the book while opining that Barney screwed over everyone he’s ever known.

The title of the Canadian dramedy Barney’s Version suggests that, from the plump, hirsute protagonist’s jaundiced point of view, there’s another side to the story. Although snubbed by the Oscars, Giamatti won a Best Actor Golden Globe for the rich, rambling film that doesn’t so much punish Barney for his flaws and misfortunes as much as celebrate them.

Based on Mordecai Richler’s novel of the same name, Barney’s Version cuts back and forth between major periods of its antihero’s eventful life. After establishing Barney as a thrice-wed, now single misanthrope, the film flashes back to Barney’s misspent youth in the sex-and-drugs-drenched Rome of the 1970s. Barney serves as a kind of tab-paying sidekick to a group of artists, including aspiring novelist/drug addict Boogie (Scott Speedman). The section focuses on his disastrous marriage to his erratic first wife Clara (Rachelle Lefevre) but suffers from unconvincing period detail, such as his African-American friend who wears black turtlenecks and says “My man!” like he’s on “The Mod Squad.”

The film regains its confidence when Barney returns to his native Canada and takes a job as the producer of the long-running soap opera “O’Malley of the North.” The film’s “30 Rock”-style digs at television are enjoyable even without knowing the in-jokes about Canadian media, such as the fact that Paul Gross, who played a Mountie on Paul Haggis’ series “Due South,” again dons the red coat as O’Malley.

Director Richard J. Lewis ensures that the performances prove colorful without spilling into caricature. Minnie Driver plays Barney’s second ex-wife as a brassy vulgarian who constantly mentions her master’s degree, but isn’t hateful enough to qualify as a villain. At their wedding reception, Barney falls in love at first sight with Miriam (Rosamund Pike) and initiates a one-sided courtship while still married. Like the film’s murder mystery, the detail feels less like a plot contrivance than a messy, unpredictable twist that befalls ordinary lives.

As Barney’s earthy ex-cop father Izzy, Dustin Hoffman gives an affectionate, perceptive performance that almost feels like he’s passing a torch to Giamatti as the most unlikely leading man of his generation. A natural comedian, Giamatti has the killer timing and sad-sack presence that make him innately sympathetic even when he’s being a jerk. (With a little trick photography, Giamatti could play all Three Stooges.) The way he gnaws his beard and how his posture seems to collapse inward as Barney ages suggest that he’s even harder on himself than he is on others.

Watching the film, you wouldn’t want to be Barney, or — especially — be married to him. But like the tetchy protagonist of many great books, you enjoy his company as a tour guide through a messy life that feels nearly as real as your own.