'The Master' falls just short of perfection

Joaquin Phoenix and Philip Seymour Hoffman in Paul Thomas Anderson's 'The Master.'
Joaquin Phoenix and Philip Seymour Hoffman in Paul Thomas Anderson's 'The Master.'

No one can make a shot of expansive desert look as lush as Paul Thomas Anderson. Much like his 2007 opus There Will Be Blood, Anderson's latest, The Master, features some amazing cinematography, none richer than his wide shots of furrowed fields and arid salt flats.

But deep into the second hour of the film, as the audience is presented with another beautiful shot of parched dirt with hazy mountains on the horizon, one has to draw a parallel with the content of the film itself. It looks great, but is anything really there?

The Master is an example of the sum of the parts actually being greater than the whole. Anderson is undoubtedly an auteur; working for the first time without cinematographer Robert Elswit, he still creates the same visual style of the rest of his catalogue.

Joaquin Phoenix is stunning in his return to acting, having previously “retired” after 2010's put-on I'm Still Here, looking just as addled and twisted as one who saw that mockumentary would expect. He puts on a clinic as Freddy Quell, an ex-Navy man with a penchant for homemade booze trying to find his way in a post-World War II society that he never fit into in the first place. Phoenix acts so hard that he's literally banging his head against the wall, and between his tics, the tortured way he carries himself and his willingness to throw himself completely into his role, should have an Academy Award nomination headed his way.

Philip Seymour Hoffman is, if not equally stunning, at least as committed to his character. He makes the most of Lancaster Dodd, the titular “master” loosely based on Scientology creator L. Ron Hubbard. Hoffman was calmly masterful as always, portraying Dodd as a charismatic svengali who uses his self-taught therapy method, called “The Cause,” to unlock the memories of trillions (that's trillions with a “T”) of years of past lives in his willing subjects. Does he truly believe in the “science” he's touting, or is he merely a charlatan tring to sell books and disrobe his female followers? We never quite know; Dodd sticks to his guns throughout, though there are some cracks showing by the end.

Amy Adams is tremendous as his wife, unwavering in her fervent support of Dodd and The Cause. Jesse Plemons and Remi Malek round out an excellent supporting cast.

Radiohead's Johnny Greenwood scored the film, and the haunting soundscapes that permeated There Will Be Blood are back, setting a unsettling tone from frame one.

All the elements of a great film are there, but in the end, there is little catharsis and a not-quite-satisfying resolution. It's not quite Anderson's best, but even a middle-of-the-road effort from him still qualifies as one of the best films of the year. See it for the acting performances and cinematography alone.

Author: Ben Conant

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