IRRATIONAL MAN Is An Entertainingly Oddball Effort From Woody Allen

IRRATIONAL MAN Review:

- At this point, watching a new Woody Allen film is sort of a singular experience. For good and for bad, there's nothing else quite like it. Between Woody's real-life scandals and the way they seem to awkwardly and consistently be reflected in his films (older men with younger women, for example) and his anachronistic dialogue and characters, there are often a lot of things in Woody's modern-day movies that make me cringe just a little. And yet ... I still love visiting the world of Woody. No other filmmaker has a voice like his, and few other movies fixate on the philosophical in quite the same way as Allen's tend to do. Such is IRRATIONAL MAN - a movie that is both frustrating and uniquely entertaining. It's got a fantastic cast - anchored by Joaquin Phoenix and Emma Stone (and Parker Posey!) - and a fun premise. It's good enough that I was able to overlook some of the awkwardness and go with it. Even though the movie's got no Allen and not even an Allen proxy, in many ways it's vintage Woody.

IRRATIONAL MAN follows Phoenix as Abe, a sort of rock star philosophy professor who seems to go from university to university, wowing students, pissing off faculty, drinking too much, and wooing his fair share of female students and colleagues along the way. He seems to be trying - but not necessarily succeeding - to avoid his old patterns at his latest teaching gig at a Brown-esque New England college. A married music teacher (Posey) lusts after him, as does Jill (Stone), a student who worships the ground he walks on. Even as Abe succumbs to both of their wiles, he finds himself restless and anxious. What finally motivates and excites him is a random idea that comes into his head, after overhearing a conversation at a diner. Abe hears a woman break down in tears, complaining about a heartless judge. Abe becomes convinced that if the cruel judge were to die - if he were to be murdered - the world would ultimately become a better place, and many would be spared his cruelty. Abe decides that he should be the one to commit the act, and begins brainstorming the perfect murder - all, he's convinced, in the name of serving the greater good. The more sure Abe becomes about the rightness of his mission, the more he seems to climb out of his alcohol-fueled depression.

On one hand, IRRATIONAL MAN is a very small, very slight film. On the other hand, there's a lot to unpack here. Allen seems to be using Abe to explore the idea of going down a philosophical rabbit hole at the expense of one's own morality. By becoming obsessed with "the greater good," Abe loses sight of just how coldly cruel his actions really are. And ultimately, he's something of a hypocrite - because as much as he talks about the greater good, he'll also do almost anything in the name of self-preservation. Basically, IRRATIONAL MAN seems to be Allen's thesis-statement about why putting too much stock in high-minded philosophical ideas is, essentially, bull$#&%. 

Phoenix's mumbly-weirdo persona is a good fit for the film. It's easy to buy him as a wrapped-up-in-his-own-head philosophy professor with a bit of a screw loose. He also brings a lot of humor to the table. What's more though, he is able to run with Allen's sometimes-stilted dialogue and make it his own. Emma Stone has the tougher time of things. As Jill, Stone is forced to play a doting college student who feels like a relic of some lost 70's TV-movie about New England prep-school girls with a rebellious streak. Before she falls in with Abe, Jill is dating a guy so dorky and square that he may as well be wearing a white sweater draped around his neck (he may actually be in some scenes, I don't recall). And Jill talks like no 21-year-old has *ever* talked, except in Woody-World. But that's part and parcel, I guess, with these movies. At least Parker Posey is better able to just go all-in and throw herself into the role of attention-starved hanger-on. Posey is great here, and by going broad with the character she makes it work.

The New England setting is an unusual one for Allen, but he really takes advantage of it. It's a great-looking film, capturing the stately vibe of an Ivy League university and of a quaint, seaside New England college town. There's nothing really flashy here, but the movie overall is picturesque and perfectly captures the sort of world of academia that surrounds Abe and, in many ways, feeds his vices. 

If you can get past all the weird Woody-isms, there's a fun little psychological comedic thriller to be found here. Yes, there will be more philosophers name-dropped than you'll know what to do with. And yes, you can have a pretty good drinking game if you take a shot every time a character awkwardly and non-ironically uses the term "making love." But you've also got to sort of marvel at how Allen's scripts, as dusty and eccentric as they may feel in 2015, remain stubbornly intellectual in an age where most everything else in pop-culture feels dumbed-down to the nth degree. Sure, we've seen many a movie in which a seemingly mild-mannered man tries his hand at murder. But rare is the movie where that man's thoughts on the matter are presented in the context of long, flowing dialogue exchanges about philosophy and existentialism and nihilism and ... well, you get the picture. That's Woody for you. I'm always curious what stories he has for us, and always interested to hear what he has to say. IRRATIONAL MAN is a strange beast of a film - stubbornly eccentric and occasionally frustrating - but it's also oddly refreshing: a complete 180 from most of what you'll see in theaters this year. 

My Grade: B

INHERENT VICE Is a Long, Strange Trip

INHERENT VICE Review:

- Paul Thomas Anderson seems to be in the "I'll damn well do what I please" stage of his career. Okay, so maybe he's sort of always been there, in his way. But INHERENT VICE continues what Anderson's previous film, The Master, started. It feels like a free-form meditation on ... something, with Anderson mostly content to just play with his eclectic cast of characters and see what happens. Should nothing in particular result? Fine by him. That's a big difference versus the thunderous statement of purpose that was There Will Be Blood - still, to me, one of the greatest films of the last few decades. Anderson is still absolutely at the top of his game in terms of craftsmanship. INHERENT VICE is so thick with smoky/hippie atmosphere that it's practically a cinematic contact high. And certainly, the film's plot - an adaptation of the Thomas Pynchon novel - is a neo-noir journey down the rabbit-hole that lends itself to a loose, more free-form sort of storytelling. It's The Long Goodbye meets The Big Lebowski. It's 1970, and it's the last gasp of the free-love, free-dope hippie community of Los Angeles before the times they go a'changin'. And Anderson paints this world in vivid, smoky hues - in 70 millimeter film, it all looks amazing. But while the scene is brought to life, and the shaggy-dog noir story rife with moments of tripped-out brilliance, I still wonder whether the movie is missing a certain something that could have tightened it up into an out-and-out classic. Again, it's that feeling that Anderson is content to sort of just play in this world, not so much concerned with taking the parts and fashioning them into a cohesive and thematically-impactful whole. There's a lot to love about INHERENT VICE, but it also feels like it could have offered more beyond leaving the audience feeling like they've just lived through a crazy fever-dream.

Let me preface by saying that not only am I a huge PTA fan in general, but I also have a huge affinity for sun-soaked neo-noir. I love this genre, and I love the ability it affords a storyteller to tell a free-roaming yarn where part of the point is that nothing quite adds up. INHERENT VICE falls squarely in that tradition, sending its protagonist - doped-out private detective Larry "Doc" Sportello (Joaquin Phoenix) on a strange, spiraling search for a real-estate mogul at the center of a SoCal crime conspiracy. Along the way, Doc encounters all manner of shady characters, corrupt cops, femme fatales, false leads, dead ends, and people who just plain want him dead.

On paper, and as I'm writing this, it all sounds pretty fantastic. And it's true, sort of: INHERENT VICE is rich with great moments and memorable individual scenes. The raggedy narrative takes the form of the film's barely put-together anti-hero PI - loosely cobbled-together, eccentric, and hard to get a read on. The film's scenes often work wonderfully as self-contained vignettes, as Doc has mesmerizing, strange, and often hilarious encounters with a motley crew of weirdos, burn-outs, and bottom-feeders. But the film also takes on a sort of self-indulgent quality, stretching out scenes long past their ideal expiration dates, and letting Phoenix sort of go off the rails in his portrayal of Doc.

Phoenix is one of the best actors working today. Maybe *the* best. But what made his performances in films like The Master and Her so powerful and effective was that his natural weirdness and eccentricity served as a layer behind a facade of normalcy, of being an everyman. In The Master he was the wounded spirit of American soldiers home from war. In Her he was the emotionally crippled soul of modern man in a world more about connection with things than with other people. Here, his Doc is just Doc - there's no pretense about who this guy is. He's a larger-than-life noir character in the vein of Philip Marlowe or The Dude. And playing that sort of character seems to give Phoenix license to just go all-out, balls-to-the-wall nutty. And PTA indulges him, lingering on long takes of Phoenix just sort of muttering, squirming, squinting, and smoking. Lots and lots and lots of smoking, with long, lingering drags aplenty. Don't get me wrong, Phoenix is great here, in his way. He's very funny. And he has the uncanny ability to say so much with just an arch of the eyebrow or a grimace. But the film perhaps goes *a bit* off the rails by indulging all of it. If you're into the whole brevity thing, then you might leave wondering if the movie's two-and-a-half-hour running time could have been cut short, for the better, had Phoenix been reigned in ever so slightly.

The movie's cast is populated with a litany of great actors. The best is Josh Brolin as square-jawed, straight-laced (at least on the surface) cop Lt. Detective Christian "Bigfoot" Bjornsen. Brolin absolutely kills it in this role, portraying Bigfoot as a guy who wants so desperately to be the man's-man ying to Doc's hippie yang that he comes off as oblivious to all of his own eccentricities. Brolin and Phoenix have an endlessly entertaining rapport, and the two play off each other brilliantly.

I was also really impressed by Katherine Waterston as Doc's ex Shasta - the trouble-courting hippie whose perilous relationship with shady mogul Michael Wolfmann (an entertainingly zonked-out Eric Roberts) is what initially lures Doc into launching his investigation. Waterston's Shasta is sort of the classic "out of the past" enigmatic woman, who waltzes back into Doc's life only to screw it up. Waterston does a fantastic job of making Shasta into a worthy motivator for Doc to get off his couch and back into the fray - making her into the hippie chick of a man like Doc's dreams and a man like Bigfoot's worst nightmares. There are a lot of other great actors who turn up in the movie. I wish we got more of Michael Kenneth William's black-power convict Tariq Khalil. We get a lot of Owen Wilson's recovering-addict rocker Coy Harlingen, and man, the scenes between Wilson and Phoenix are so thick with drugged-out haze that you may find yourself coughing afterwords. Wilson is always fun to watch, and though his character at times feels like a bit of a distraction, it's a welcome one. Also excellent is Benicio Del Toro as Doc's lawyer and confidante Sauncho Smilax, Esq. Martin Short pops up in a hilarious extended cameo as a loony co-conspirator of Wolfmann's. And Hong Chau is a scene-stealer as an affable young woman who happens to run a "special" massage parlor that's also part of Wolfmann's master scheme. Also of note: Jena Malone as Wilson's ex-addict wife, and Reese Witherspoon as a put-together Deputy D.A. Penny Kimball - who carries on a mismatched affair with Doc that seems to fill her with self-loathing.

Characters like Witherspoon's Kimball and Brolin's Bigfoot seem to tell a tale of a post-hippie world, in which a true-blue doper like Doc finds himself in a society that's generally become just as weird as he is. The film is set in 1970, and the hippie movement has already peaked. Doc and his ilk are soon-to-be an endangered species. The 60's are giving way to the conservatism of the 70's and 80's. The hippies have been demonized post-Charles Manson - Doc and his ilk are derided as cultists by the cops. And so Doc, with his enduring commitment to living out his days as high as possible, is the walking symbol of a dying breed.

Well, at least that's what I'm extrapolating. As in The Master, Anderson seems to sort of circle around these big themes in INHERENT VICE, but doesn't quite seem to decide what it is, exactly, that he's trying to say here. I've seen some reviews that further expand on some of the ideas I lay out above. But I think going much further is to read more into the film than what's there. Anderson, I think, gets caught up in putting forth an overall vibe of lingering, languid, stoned-out trippiness that he loses track of the big picture storytelling. The result is that the movie ends, and there's a feeling that the movie never quite came together so as to form a cohesive whole. The best noirs have a clockwork precision that informs the surface-level chaos. There are moments here where you can't help but smile at what Anderson's doing (and I haven't read the book to comment on how it works as an adaptation). You can see puzzle pieces falling into place in unexpected and funny ways. Sometimes. Sometimes the pieces just don't seem to add up. When they do, it's great. As with the slowly-unraveling revelation that Wolffmann is involved in a circular scheme, in which a cabal called the Golden Fang deals drugs and then profits from the rehab centers that the addicts inevitably end up in. But some elements of the film - like most everything involving Wilson's rocker, or the verbose, seemingly unnecessary voice-over narration - have too many moments that are head-scratchers.

I like a lot about INHERENT VICE, and it's a film that has a lot of greatness to soak in that's scattered throughout its sprawling running time. What keeps it from total greatness though is that the movie has a lot on its mind. It doesn't want to be pure, Lebowski-esque farce. Anderson seems to want to say a lot about the 60's, the 70's, hippie culture, cop culture, business culture, and the push and pull of liberalism and conservatism in modern America. I'm just not sure that he ever says exactly what he wants to say though. For that reason, INHERENT VICE can feel like a long strange trip without a true light at the end of the tunnel. At the same time, it can't be discounted, because the voice telling us this tale is one of the best damn filmmakers we've got.

My grade: B+

HER is a Romantic-Comedy-Sci-Fi Stunner

HER Review:

- In the wrong hands, HER could very easily have been a major bust. The premise - in the near future, a lonely man falls in love with his computer's operating system - is both fascinating but also rife with potential to go very wrong, if not handled with care. That, I think, is what's so astonishing about Spike Jonze's film: he never goes where you think he's going to go, never takes the easy or obvious route, and crafts a funny, humanistic story that surprises with its nuance and intelligence. This is, quite simply, a masterfully done film - a surprisingly cerebral sci-fi film that's also a romantic comedy. What's more, HER is one of those rare films that manages to say something profound about the way we live our lives today, all while managing not to hit you over the head with its themes. Jonze seems less set on making a definitive statement about what's right or wrong with the film's unusual central relationship. Instead, he's interested in simply examining it - trying to figure out, in his own head, how this all works, and what that says about us in a world that is not all that far removed from the film's future. To go along with Jonze on that journey is to experience one of the great films of 2013.

HER is set in the not-too-distant future. Our protagonist is Theodore (Joaquin Phoenix). Theodore is a gifted writer, who works at a company that creates and sends faux hand-crafted love letters - a sort of novelty gift, like a more elaborate Hallmark greeting card. Theodore's job is an odd one: he dictates meticulously-composed prose to create these highly-personal seeming letters, but the whole thing is a fiction, a rouse. The feeling of loneliness that such a job would seem to foster is doubly apparent with Theodore - he's recently split from his wife, Catherine (Rooney Mara), but still holds off on making the divorce official, unable to fully let go. Unable to shake thoughts of Catherine, he lives a mostly antisocial life, content to play videogames and stay in, reluctant to date or put himself out there. However, Theodore's life unexpectedly changes when, one day, he updates his computer operating system via a popular new OS update. It's a seemingly mundane thing, but Theodore quickly realizes that this new OS is something else, something unique. With an uncannily human-sounding female voice (Scarlett Johansson) - that speaks to Theodore through various devices and earpieces - the OS dubs itself Samantha, and begins a shockingly fast evolution from simple machine to complex being, capable of real emotion and feeling. At least, it seems real. As Theodore becomes closer and closer to Samantha - thinking of her, over time, as a person, a friend, a lover - he, and we, begin to wonder whether Samantha is truly, essentially, human ... or merely a very sophisticated simulation - a clever illusion designed to sucker in lonely guys like Theodore.

Jonze doesn't just present Samantha as a bit of magical movie-fantasy. To his credit, he really considers her evolution from all angles, and there's a surprising amount of science behind the fiction. What I found really fascinating was the idea that Theodore's relationship with Samantha wasn't unique - he's not just some nutty guy who falls in love with a computer. No, the movie's most brilliant twist might be that this new OS becomes a phenomena, and all over, people begin "dating" or befriending their OS's. And so, thanks to some very crafty plotting, HER becomes about more than just one man's eccentricities, but about something that affects everyone, alters the world at large. The movie morphs into a very eerily accurate extension of the way we live now - glued to our phones and tablets and increasingly shutting off the real world in favor of the digital one. Jonze builds this world so smartly and cleverly that you can't help but be enthralled. What's even better is that Theodore's relationship with Samantha is only the beginning, as Jonze isn't content to end things where you suspect they might end. No, Jonze keeps pushing the story and pushing the world of the movie to see how far he can take things, to what logical extensions of the plot he can get to. And man, that's fun to watch unfold. How rare is it in film to see things push past the usual third-act finale and go even deeper and farther? To me, part of what elevates HER to greatness is that it just keeps defying expectation. It left me constantly confused and delighted as to where it was going and how it would get there.

The other pretty incredible thing about this film is its triple-threat acting combo of Joaquin Phoenix, Scarlett Johansson, and Amy Adams (who appears in a somewhat small but absolutely crucial role as Theodore's geeky friend and confidante Amy). 

Phoenix has been on a tear of late. Even though I had some issues with The Master, I was floored by his work in it, and he's almost as good here. Phoenix plays the part of Theodore in a manner that feels completely raw and exposed. Theodore is sort of a sad sack in some ways, but he's also very human, very real-seeming, and very empathetic. What's remarkable is that Phoenix gives just the right mix of skepticism and wonderment with regards to Samantha. This is a guy who, on one level, is lonely and wounded and ripe to find solace in an artificial intelligence that essentially evolves to be his perfect (albeit non-corporeal) woman. But on another level, there is an awareness that what he's getting into is strange and in many ways unnatural. Phoenix's Theodore approaches his relationship with Samantha with a similar mix of optimism and doubt that we, today, might approach online dating or long-distance relationships. Phoenix sells it wholly and completely. 

As for Johansson ... going in, I found it hard to believe that a performance as a disembodied voice could truly be Oscar-worthy. But - holy crap - this is an absolutely incredible, very much Oscar-worthy performance from ScarJo, even despite the fact that she never actually appears on screen in any way, shape, or form. She kills it as Samantha, believably evolving her digital persona from human-like to almost-fully-human in a way that's both remarkable and slightly scary. Again, it's amazing just how much we come to buy into the Theodore-Samantha relationship. What seems potentially silly on paper feels genuine, in large part because of how well Johansson makes us believe in this disembodied voice as a real being - not quite human, but naive and curious about the world in a way that's endearing, at times heartbreaking. Samantha's voice is the key to making this movie work, and Scarlett's performance is totally convincing.

Seeing Amy Adams in HER is sort of amazing if you've also recently seen her fantastic performance in American Hustle. There, she's a glamorous, scheming con-artist. Here, she's a mousy, slightly awkward videogame developer. Her character, Amy, is an old friend of Theodore's from college, and she's stuck in a relationship with a stuffy guy who doesn't take an interest in her creative ambitions. Amy - in her own way lonely and struggling - is a fascinating counterpoint to Theodore. I won't spoil the ways in which Amy's story ends up paralleling and intertwining with Theodore's, but again, Jonze never hits you over the head with obvious developments. The way that Adams makes Amy into this vulnerable, and again, all-too-human and relatable character is another reason why the movie succeeds beyond expectation.

There are some other excellent turns in the film. One standout is Rooney Mara, as Theodore's ex - a woman who Theodore remembers as happy and vibrant, but who, over time, grew colder and more distant. Another is Chris Pratt, as Theodore's jovial co-worker who is probably the movie's least-quirky character. Having a more alpha-male character like Pratt's around is another subtle stroke of genius. It gives us yet another perspective on how the wider world might view an OS like Samantha. In a lesser movie, Pratt would probably have just played the bully who beats up on Theodore. But his character here is actually Theodore's buddy, and their dynamic is a lot of fun.

HER blends humor, romance, and sci-fi more seamlessly than it's got any right to. There are a lot of really funny moments in the film, like the scenes where we check in on the motion-controlled videogame that sucks up Theodore's time, in which his avatar is led around by a foul-mouthed cartoon character. The movie is also, legitimately, one of the best romances I've seen on film. Like I said, there's a realness and rawness to the Theodore-Samantha relationship that you don't see captured on screen in most stories about two actual people. Finally, the world of this film is just so well thought-out, from fashions (high-waisted pants are in) to tech (pocket-watch style smart phones). I don't think HER was quite sold as a sci-fi film, but it really is. Shot in LA and Shanghai, Jonze creates a fascinating near-future cityscape that is, truly, a reflection of the world we live in now.

I've tried to be relatively careful with how I talk about this film, because there are so many great little moments that I didn't see coming, but that make for some excellent and thought-provoking post-movie discussion. HER is a film that hits your head and your heart. Its pacing is at times a bit methodical, but soon enough I was absorbed in its narrative, and just when I was sure I knew where and how it would end, a new twist came along that reshaped the whole film. What Jonze has accomplished here is right up there with his other great directorial efforts like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind - like that one, this is a film that will provoke discussion for many years to come.

My Grade: A

THE MASTER Asks Big Questions, But Provides Few Answers

THE MASTER Review:

- There's no doubt - Paul Thomas Anderson is one of the great filmmakers of our time. His movies are ambitious, thematically-rich, gorgeous to look at, and typically filled with stunning performances from top-notch actors. To me, Anderson reached his apex with his last film, There Will Be Blood, which was an incredible instant-classic. One of the top films of the last decade. And now ... after a lengthy wait, comes The Master. My anticipation for this film was off the charts. Anderson, teaming with Joaquin Phoenix, Phillip Seymour-Hoffman, in a film that was purportedly inspired by the life of L. Ron Hubbard and Scientology? It seemed fascinating, thrilling, and like a potential masterpiece in the making.

The truth is though - I came out of The Master with mixed emotions. I felt like I had just witnessed some of the very best performances I'd *ever* seen in a film. I knew what I had seen was stunningly shot, meticulously crafted. Certainly, the characters and the narrative left me a lot to chew on. But I just wasn't quite sure what to make of the movie. It felt scattered, disjointed. It felt like Anderson had a lot of disparate ideas about man and master, about religion and cult, about post-war America, about Id, Ego, and Super Ego. But I wasn't quite sure if he ever fully tied those ideas together into one cohesive whole. Not that there's anything wrong with a collage-style movie. Anderson, of course, has experimented with that very idea in films like Magnolia. But you need that one through-line, that connective tissue, those "aha! moments" where the bell goes off and you see the forest for the trees. The Master is a film that may reward multiple viewings in that manner - as its layers are peeled back and the Truth behind some of its mysteries is exposed. But my gut feeling is that, while this film will be analyzed and discussed for years to come, its sketchiness and looseness will make most interpretations seem like they're reaching a bit.

But let's go back to the acting for a second. For let it be said: Joaquin Phoenix simply takes things to another level in this one. As Freddie Quells, Phoenix has a Brando-esque rawness that is totally captivating. He lets it all hang out, and goes for broke. Quells is sailor returned from serving in World War II. To what extent he always was a certain way, and to what extent he's been changed and warped by the war, we don't quite know. But Freddie, when we first meet him, is like some kind of feral, almost neanderthal-esque man who wants to fight and fornicate. Post-war, he wanders from odd job to odd job, but his self-sabotaging ways get him into trouble. Ultimately, he stumbles onto a cruise ship while trying to escape from some guys he's run afoul of, and has a fateful meeting with one Lancaster Dodd. Philip Seymour Hoffman shapes Dodd into a bellowing, charismatic cult leader - "The Master" - a blowhard philosopher/intellectual who is the founder of "The Cause" - a new-age belief system that bears some resemblance to Scientology. Dodd, a man typically surrounded by followers and yes-men, takes a liking to Quells. There's something about Quells' unchecked id that fascinates Dodd. Dodd's entire belief system is about controlling and repressing man's basest and most animalistic urges - and yet, The Master hints that Dodd seeks to tame Quells as a means of, in turn, taming himself. In a way, "The Cause" seems as much a way for Dodd to come to terms with his own vices - sex, booze, rage, etc. - as it is anything else. But Dodd is also clearly a charlatan and a fraud - a modern-day Wizard of Oz. Even he seems uncertain of what B.S. he'll spew forth next. But like many con-artists, part of the game is conning himself. And so, Dodd and Quells enjoy a unique sort of relationship. To Dodd, Quells is almost like a dog to be trained. And in many ways, Quells acts like a dog - ever loyal to his master, only half-understanding the things being said to him, being trained to obey.

The relationship between Dodd and Quells is what makes The Master sing. The scenes between Hoffman and Phoenix are often electric - a clash of titans that will shake you and stir you. There is a love and a hate between the two characters that is truly epic. And that strange relationship is made all the more compelling by the two actors bringing it to life. Let me just emphasize: what Phoenix does here is totally remarkable. As theatrical and singular as Daniel Day-Lewis in There Will Be Blood, yet with a naturalism and sense of immersion in character that I've rarely seen in film.

The problem is that there is a vague sense here of existential conflict, of life and death struggle, of a clash of wills between two men. But it feels like an outline that's not fully formed. In part, it may be that the film is actually hurt by its ties to the Scientology story. The fact is, there are some undeniable ties to the life story of L. Ron Hubbard - enough that it will be in the back of your mind throughout the movie - but the movie ultimately ends up having little to do with Scientology at all. To me though, the fact that the movie draws *any* comparison ends up hurting it. Because the moments that do evoke it also emphasize that the film doesn't really talk about the sorts of questions we all have about the religion: why would seemingly smart and well-off people join it? Why wouldn't they question the outlandish mythology on which it's based? And to what extent did L. Ron Hubbard intend for it to become what it has? The Master isn't really interested in any of these more specific topics. The movie is painting a picture in very, very broad strokes. It wants to explore why one man would follow another, even if the master's philosophy never really makes sense in any meaningful way to the follower. The movie posits that in fact, we are all Quells, and that only a thin veneer of B.S. allows us to function as civilized human beings. Because Dodd's "The Cause," says The Master, was never *really* about explaining the mysteries of the universe. No - it was, only, about creating a system that would bring this man followers - that would create for him a flock. Again though, while the movie works - and is thought-provoking - on this sort of big, grand level ... it's less compelling as an actual narrative.

Anderson stages the movie with a strange blend of matter-of-factness and dreamlike, surreal storytelling. At times, what we see may or may not be Quells' imagination at work - his delusions. But Anderson seems to shift from reality to fantasy on a whim. "He's making all of this up as he goes along," warns Dodd's doubting son to Quells - speaking of his father's philosophical principles that make up The Cause. Sometimes, the same could be said of Anderson's narrative. Maybe that's the intended effect? I don't know. But certain reveals fall flat. Quells' relationship with a young lover from back home is more awkward and baffling than anything else. So too is Dodd's strained relationship with his icy wife, played with great restraint by Amy Adams. Adams does a great job in the role, but her relationship with Dodd - and with Quells - is left so open for interpretation that it's hard to get a handle on. And that's the thing ... there are many puzzle pieces here, but few if any are moved into place by the movie's end. As phenomenal as the lead performances are, the film leaves you wanting for some sort of narrative meat to sink your teeth into. Anderson isn't trying for Lynchian abstractness, but he begins veering into that territory in a way that I'm not sure he fully intended. Perhaps Phoenix's brilliant but admittedly over-the-top performance ended up pushing the film in that direction. Perhaps Anderson - known for dreaming up disparate scenes and then later tying them together - never quite found that connective tissue I mentioned earlier. But regardless of his intentions, too many scenes in The Master left me wondering what the heck Anderson was trying to say. And no explanations I've seen or heard have yet sold me that there is, in fact, something major that I was missing. Maybe there is some grand, unifying theory of The Master out there that will change my mind. More likely, however, is that this is simply a case of big but vaguely-defined themes overwhelming the rest of the movie, at the  expense of  definable narrative progression and character arcs.

PT Anderson is one of the great modern filmmakers. And any film fan owes it to themselves to go see The Master - because even if it isn't a masterpiece, per se, it is one of those brilliant-but-flawed works whose high points are very, very high. The performances are breathtaking, the cinematography mind-blowing (not to mention - the intense, mood-setting score from Johnny Greenwood). Individual scenes are stand-outs. And yet, those high points make the movie's inability to fully resonate that much more frustrating. In a way, it reminded me a bit of this summer's Prometheus - grasping at the Big Questions but never quite addressing them head-on. The Master asks much, but rarely answers in a satisfying or definitive manner. And so you have to wonder - what story does this movie tell? I suspect that film fans will be wondering - and discussing - for a long time to come.

My Grade: B+