Paul Thomas Anderson’s sixth feature film proves to be worth the hype.
By Will Ross
To the extent that we can ascribe a narrative to Paul Thomas Anderson’s career, it may be a loss of resolution. Though all his work has been characterized by sprawl and ambition, each film has been more mysterious and elliptical than the last. And so, as we arrive at The Master, Anderson’s sixth feature, he seems to have jettisoned all causal links between scenes.
Most notably, he omits the meeting of the two leading actors: Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman), an L. Ron Hubbard-inspired pseudo-scientific cult leader, and Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix), a World War II veteran with post-traumatic stress disorder. Quell, a drifter, wanders onto Dodd’s vessel during a party, and wakes up with no memory of the previous night — but Dodd remembers it quite well, and strikes up a friendship that he knows is dangerous to him and his cause. Quell accepts it, not because he is convinced by it, but because following a faith affirms his place in the world. When he asks where he is, a character replies, “You’re fine. You’re at sea.”
[pullquote] Anderson refuses to clearly locate any scene in a narrative thrust. The effect is mystifying, but not ambiguous — we always search for answers, but we are never lost entirely.[/pullquote]
So are we. Anderson refuses to clearly locate any scene in a narrative thrust. The effect is mystifying, but not ambiguous — we always search for answers, but we are never lost entirely. But even then, this kind of structural decision can make for inconsistent pacing, and there is a line between motion and meandering that the movie crosses several times.
[pullquote]The production was filmed in 70mm, a now-uncommon, large film format. The resulting appearance is astonishing, detailed, and unique; all the more so because while 70mm usually emphasizes wide compositions, The Master makes heavy use of close ups.[/pullquote]
The production was filmed in 70mm, a now-uncommon, large film format. The resulting appearance is astonishing, detailed, and unique; all the more so because while 70mm usually emphasizes wide compositions, The Master makes heavy use of close ups. The liberal use of hard light and shallow focus gives the actors’ facial features utter control of the frame.
The Master has become somewhat notorious for its scientology-inspired cult, and, indeed, it’s by turns a damningly cynical and misty-eyed farewell to religion. But what makes it truly engaging is that, despite its frequent ellipses, it takes its characters on an affecting, emotional journey. Late in the film, Freddie tries to reconnect with something he had run away from years ago, only to be met by disappointment. Watching his reaction, we realize that the Freddie Quell who we knew at the beginning would not — could not — have reacted to the situation this way.
It has no plot, and it has no revelations or answers or conclusions to offer its characters, but I don’t miss those things at all when a film ends with sequences as nostalgic and inspiring as the final 10 minutes of The Master.
