The Master
With each film, I’ve become more and more convinced that Paul Thomas Anderson’s greatest strengths as a writer and director are stories that are focused in on only a couple of people. The broad, ensemble cast epics of “Boogie Nights” and “Magnolia” didn’t impress me nearly as much as his smaller, tighter narratives in “Hard Eight,” “Punch-Drunk Love,” and “There Will Be Blood.” With his latest film, he continues on that tighter path of storytelling, and although the efforts are not as across-the-board great as they were with “Punch-Drunk Love” and “There Will Be Blood,” “The Master” has much to justify moving it in the upper echelon of his filmography.
There are a lot of “big ideas” in “The Master,” but what drives the film is the story of Freddie (Joaquin Phoenix). A Navy man during WWII, he has lived in relative isolation since the war ended. He has a violent streak exacerbated by alcoholism and an obvious, undiagnosed, case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Though he tries to make his living doing odd jobs, Freddie seems to spend most of his time concocting his own drinks, one of which poisons a coworker. He runs away, and sneaks aboard a boat where an older man is presiding over his daughter’s wedding. That man is Lancaster Dodd (Phillip Seymour Hoffman), a doctor and philosopher, as well as the founder of a spiritual movement called, simply, The Cause. After sleeping off his hangover, Freddie is taken under Lancaster’s wing as he moves from place to place, spreading his message around the land.
As Freddie and Lancaster become closer, and the film moves through its 137 minutes, Anderson’s technique as a storyteller sometimes feels too abstract, and not linear enough. This is especially true at the end, where we leave asking questions about how things played out as they did (especially when Freddie and Lancaster have a phone call in an empty movie theatre). Despite this seemingly unintended ambiguity, however, Anderson held my interest the whole time because of his focus on Freddie’s spiritual quest. Focusing on Freddie rather than Dodd seems like an obvious choice, but it’s no less important of a choice. Lancaster is, in the end, a less interesting character for this film, and Anderson presents him rationally, and without judgment. He is the man Freddie wants to be, and when Dodd is called out for his sometimes-unorthodox philosophies, Freddie is very protective of “Master.” That rage Freddie has held on to is unsettling, but in a way, quite predictable to see coming. I’m not quite sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that we don’t get to the roots of Freddie’s troubled psyche, only scratching the surface during his “processing” sessions with Dodd, but I do think that is part of Anderson’s point– this man needs in-depth, psychological help rather than a know-it-all, dime-a-dozen “spiritual leader” who has an inflated sense of self.
It’s no secret that Anderson was inspired to make “The Master,” in part, by the life of L. Ron Hubbard, who founded the Scientology movement in the ’50s, where “The Master” is set. But the film isn’t just a broad-strokes swipe at the house that Hubbard built, although the “processing” Dodd puts people through is akin to Scientology’s “auditing” process of regressive therapy, and the bizarre, science-fiction mumbo-jumbo Dodd spouts as “religious truth” is clearly inspired by Hubbard’s creation myth. Anderson’s clearer goal is to show a man in pain, shaped by experiences he can’t share with anyone else, grasping at something that promises him peace, only to find that it leads to greater uncertainty. But Anderson’s film could be applicable to any grassroots religious movement, and any situation where a strong personality takes hold of a weaker one, leading to a weak moral center. Personally, Anderson had more profound things to say about spiritual emptiness in “There Will Be Blood” in the lifelong struggle between Daniel Plainview, the opportunist, and Paul Sunday, the evangelical preacher who tries to manipulate Plainview for his own gain, only to lose everything. But his point in “The Master” isn’t to illuminate the corruption of the soul, but how people grasp for things, trying to put themselves together again. Does Freddie accomplish that? I don’t know, but there’s a powerful scene between him and a long, lost love’s mother that shows him more in control of his emotions than he has been in years, although the final scene leaves it open-ended as to how healed he really is.
There are three, central characters in “The Master,” although there is a broad spectrum of people in the story. The first two are Freddie and Lancaster, and it’s impossible for me to write about the work Phoenix and Hoffman, both remarkable, do in this film without sounding redundant. (Phoenix, in particular, is nothing short of a revelation. After a “lost” period, during which he turned his back on traditional acting and made the crazy “mock documentary” “I’m Still There,” Phoenix has found a role that’s an extension of that one in his gaunt, painful physical appearance.) The third character is Amy Adams as Dodd’s devoted wife, Peggy. She is, in a sense, the scariest character in the film, not because anything she says or does, but the WAY she says and does it. She has her husband’s ear, and even if they have differing opinions on whether Freddie can be saved, she has an unwavering faith in Lancaster’s methods. Adams is the third leg of a triumphant acting tripod that keeps this film from falling over; boy, has she come a long way from the sunny demeanor of “Junebug” and “Enchanted.”
Even though I haven’t always loved Anderson’s films, there are, almost without fail, three things you can count on from the director’s work: big ideas, rich images (shot, this time, by Mihai Malaimare Jr. in PTA’s favored format, 70mm), and a dazzling musical landscape. For the second straight film, the latter has been provided by Jonny Greenwood of Radiohead. Once again, Greenwood takes us places few composers dare to go, with circular motifs and bold, odd percussive sounds adding texture and emotional tension to scene after scene. He is Anderson’s greatest behind-the-scenes collaborator, and as he did on “There Will Be Blood,” Greenwood infuses “The Master” with remarkable imagination and feeling that guides us through an unforgettable journey that, regardless of how you feel about movie, will take a lot out of you.
