Cult of Personality

Movies: The Master

Paul Thomas Anderson directs horror movies in which no ghosts, ghouls, werewolves, or vampires appear. Instead, the monster haunting his films is humanity itself. When I saw Boogie Nights for the first time in high school, it disturbed me so much that I vowed never to watch it again. However, when a friend in college proclaimed his love of the scene in BN where Alfred Molina uses a blowtorch to smoke crack, I gave the film a second chance (that scene is pretty classic, btw). I was still disturbed, but I was older and more able to feel uncomfortable while also acknowledging greatness in movies, books, and art.

Years later, P.T. Anderson's movies still disturb me, but I am up for the challenge. His 2007 film, There Will Be Blood, is a true masterpiece and a total gut-punch of a movie ("I'm fiiiinnnished!"). It shows the complete obliteration of empathy and decay of the soul in the character of Daniel Plainview, especially after his one tie to humanity--his adopted son--is damaged. It's a terrifying film, but it's also a brave one. It acknowledges that monsters do indeed walk among us. And sometimes, they drink our milkshakes.

In The Master, Anderson once again turns a brutal eye on humankind. And it is beautiful, unsettling, and kind of...disappointing.

The Master has been hyped as a movie that's about Scientology, but not really, but yeah kind of is. Officially, Anderson denies any connection between his character Lancaster Dodd (played grandly by Philip Seymour Hoffman) and Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard. However, the fictional character and the real life man do share a similar timeline, and "The Cause"--as Dodd refers to his religion/cult/lifestyle--has similarities to Scientology.

But these connections are beside the point. Dodd creates The Cause as a way for human beings to rise above the animals and perfect themselves. According to The Cause's followers, humans can mentally go back in time to past lives and correct mistakes and illnesses in an attempt to perfect themselves in the present. It all sounds like mumbo jumbo of course, but Dodd has a gentleness and warmth that lulls new followers into a sense of security and belonging.

A place to fit in is exactly what troubled WWII veteran Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix, in a performance that will make us all forget that unfortunate "rap" career) needs. Quell is violent, shell-shocked, and an alcoholic whose addiction is so extreme, he turns to Lysol and paint thinner in a pinch. Phoenix plays Quell with a mush-mouth that would put Marlon Brando to shame. I could barely understand what the man was saying (and could hear all the other characters perfectly). Quell seems so out of it that I wondered if he was supposed to be brain damaged. It's an excellent performance, but it's not relatable in any way. It was hard to feel anything for Quell except a mild, consistent sense of disgust.

Quell stumbles into Dodd's world purely by accident, but he's accepted by the man immediately. It's clear that Dodd wants to use Quell as an experiment of sorts: can he cure this broken man? And Quell, although eager to fit in, proves more slippery than Dodd expects.

The Master is an ambitious film. It's a visually beautiful film as well, shot in 65mm film, which has an extremely high resolution. Indeed, you can see every crinkle, freckle, and imperfection on Hoffman and Phoenix's faces (which are often shot in close-ups). There are also wonderful scenes of oceans and deserts. I felt like I was watching an IMAX film in a regular theatre.

As I mentioned above, the performances, particularly Phoenix and Hoffman, are just wonderful. This really was a great choice for Phoenix in the aftermath of the I'm Still Here dumbassery. Phoenix, like Daniel Day-Lewis and Marlon Brando, is a hell of a method actor. His agony and anger is palpable. Phoenix really becomes Freddie Quell. And Hoffman once again blows a performance out of the water. He's the perfect fit for the serene, yet self-righteous cult leader.

Despite all my praise, I didn't really like The Master. There was something missing. Boogie Nights had dark humor, Punch-Drunk Love had sweetness, and There Will Be Blood had brutality. All The Master seemed to have was weirdness. Weird bordering on alienating. Granted, pretty much all of Anderson's movies are alienating, but in the case of The Master, it just didn't work. I don't know. I think Anderson really, really wanted this movie to be a great masterpiece--and it shows. It tries too hard. From the interviews I've read about Anderson, he seems like a pretty pretentious and prickly dude. I think he is very aware that he is a great artist, and perhaps this self-knowledge is his achilles heel. The Master has a studied self-consciousness that holds it back.

This is a hard movie to grade. On the one hand, it's got so much going for it. On the other hand, it's too cold and clean to truly be a masterpiece. It's solid, it's good...but it's not great.

3.75 out of 5 stars

Finger Lickin' Good

Movies: Killer Joe

Sometimes I think there is something wrong with me. A miss-wiring of sorts that lets me laugh at events and situations in movies which would be horrifying in real life.

Or maybe I just like dark comedies.

Killer Joe, directed by William Friedkin, is a movie that I would describe as "Tarantino-esque" in the sense that it is graphically violent and also hysterically funny.


Based on the play by the very talented Tracy Letts, Killer Joe is about the Smith family. Chris Smith (Emile Hirsch), a drug dealer, owes his boss a considerable amount of money. He decides that the best way to make some quick dough is to hire a hitman to kill his hated mother, who has a hefty insurance policy. He conspires with his moronic father, slutty stepmother, and young, naive sister, to hire Joe Cooper (Matthew McConaughey, in a performance that deserves an Oscar)--a cop who moonlights as a hitman--to dispose of the woman.

When Chris and his dad, Ansel (Thomas Hayden Church), can't front the killer's fee, Joe says he is willing to accept collateral in the form of Chris's virginal sister, Dottie (Juno Temple). With no other option, Chris reluctantly agrees.

Of course, things don't work out as planned.

A few spoilers ahead...

I was surprised at how much of the film was dedicated to Joe and Dottie's "relationship". Dottie is a very interesting character. She's looks like, acts like, and is treated like a naive schoolgirl. However, she is very observant and is the focal point on which the movie turns. I had difficulty figuring out how old she was supposed to be. There was a scene where I thought she said she was twelve; but then the friend I saw it with insisted she was actually older--say, 15. In either case, Dottie is clearly underage, but has a body just mature enough so that's it's only creepy with she and Joe have sex--as opposed to being downright repulsive.

Regardless of whether Dottie is pubescent or post-pubescent, her seduction is indeed gross. It's hard to read what Killer Joe's interest in her actually means: is he trying to infuriate Chris, or does he just really like young girls? In any case, his manipulation of Dottie is short-sighted since the girl is much smarter than she looks, and, as we find out in the end, isn't easily bossed around.

In addition to statutory rape, Killer Joe has some scenes of violence that made me cover my eyes. Let's just say that you will be put off of pumpkin soup and fried chicken for a while. But all of the scenes of violence were undercut by an absurd humor, to the point where the humor essentially overrode the violence. I found the fried chicken scene, which got so much hype, to be more silly than horrifying. But that's just my reaction. This movie is not for people who don't like violence.

Killer Joe is filled with excellent performances. Emile Hirsch, an actor we don't see enough of, is great as the weaselly Chris. Thomas Hayden Church nails it as Ansel, Chris's father, who is so idiotic he borders on brain dead. Gina Gershon plays the sexy, scheming stepmother Sharla who gets her comeuppance in the above-mentioned fried chicken scene (Google it, if you want to know the details). Juno Temple plays Dottie, the observant girl who falls for Joe. And the titular Joe is played stupendously by McConaughey, who, between this movie and Magic Mike, is having a hell of a year.

The wonderful cast has an excellent script to work with. Letts, who has written a few other very successful plays (Superior Donuts among them), balances the conventions of film noir with scenes that range from nail-bitingly tense to hilarious and absurd. There's a scene--and I don't know if I should credit the writer, director, or cinematographer for this--where Joe tells (not demands or requests, but tells) Dottie to take off her clothes and put on a black dress. While she disrobes, he turns his back and removes his handcuffs (remember, he's a cop), and sets them on the table. My stomach turned at the thought of him using the cuffs on Dottie...but then he removes his gun and badge as well. It turns out that he was also disrobing, in a way. But the way in which he removes the cuffs first was a clearly deliberate choice to make the audience cringe for a moment, before realizing in relief that he was only removing the cuffs, along with the badge and everything else, as a way of undressing. Of course, the relief is short lived when we remember that this is a 40-something man seducing a girl barely in her teens.

It's moments like this--moments that aggressively and cleverly challenge the audience--that were so appealing about this movie. Killer Joe really was a smart-trashy film, if such a thing is possible.

5 out of 5 stars

Prime of Their Lives

Movies: Hope Springs

Hello readers! I am, once more, back from an extended blogging break. I have been settling into my awesome new job and have barely had time to catch my breath, let alone go to the movies. I apologize for my disappearance.

However, I did find the time to see one movie recently: the pleasant, if unremarkable Hope Springs. The film concerns late middle-age couple, Kay and Arnold, who have been married for over thirty years and now act more like roommates than lovers/friends/spouses. In a desperate bid to save her marriage, Kay takes $4,000 out of her personal savings to pay for a week of intensive couples therapy in the small (and vomit-inducingly cute) town of Hope Springs, Maine. Arnold threatens not to go, then begrudgingly shows up but kicks and screams his entire way through the therapeutic process.

The film has *some* cliched characters. I feel like a blasphemer for writing this, but Meryl Streep feels miscast as the passive-aggressive, submissive (and not in the chicka-chicka-bow-wow way), sexually unadventurous Kay. I am so used to seeing Streep in strong, vital female roles that her performance as mousy, pleasing Kay just seemed off. I think the director wanted an attractive actress in her early 60's, and Streep was the only person he could think of.

Tommy Lee Jones, however, was perfectly cast as Arnold: an old fart curmudgeon who is content to live a life of separate bedrooms and nightly ESPN binges. Arnold is deeply suspicious of therapy and the huge amount of money it costs, and he belittles the process constantly, to the point of deeply hurting Kay, who has invested so much in saving their marriage. Arnold comes off as a close-minded bully, and it's hard to see any possible redemption for such a tightly wound jerk.

One very much *not* cliched character is Dr. Bernard Feld, played compassionately by Steve Carell in a rare dramatic role. Feld is a legitimate expert in marriage counseling and he is never played for laughs. He's a counselor you would actually want to go to in real life, and Carell plays him wonderfully, with kindness that is inherent to Carell's performances, minus the goofiness.

Other reviews have noted that the best scenes in Hope Springs occur between Streep, Jones, and Carell during the therapy sessions. I agree. These scenes show what therapy is really like--with the psychologist leading the couple through their thoughts and feelings, fears and hopes. As therapy often does, this leads to some uncomfortable revelations about oneself and one's partner. Therapy is hard work; you are forced to confront things about yourself that aren't pretty. And Hope Springs shows therapy in a true and sensitive manner, as opposed to a joke or something only for weirdos and crazies.

Where Hope Springs fails is in its cutesy, cliched humor, such as when Kay visits a "Cheers"-like bar where the bartender pours her a free round while commiserating with her marriage trouble. And then there are the scenes of sexual experimentation between Kay and Arnold that are played for laughs but come off as silly. But peppered among these silly scenes are moments of nearly painful intimacy (or lack thereof), such as when Kay and Arnold are given the basic "homework" assignment by Dr. Feld to spend time in each others arms. The two are so used to not touching--even in a non-sexual way--that this assignment is extraordinarily difficult. Even after thirty years of marriage. There but for the grace of God go the rest of us.

Hope Springs is a mix of silly, non-offensive sex jokes about 60-somethings doin' it, a genuine look at marriage counseling, and a somewhat depressing drama about how two people who love each other can become strangers in their own home. It's not the greatest movie ever, but it offers some hard truths--and, yes, hope--about marriage.

3.5 out of 5 stars