Paul Thomas Anderson

  • Licorice Pizza (2021)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Amazon Streaming, August 2022) Over the past twenty-some years, I’ve learned to like Wes Anderson’s films, to enjoy the quirks of the Coen Brothers, to pay respect to Pedro Almodovar’s approach, and to take the good with the less-good in Steven Soderbergh’s filmography. But I’m still as ambivalent about Paul Thomas Anderson’s work as I was when watching Punch-Drunk Love in theatres. There’s clearly some kind of genius at work here (or, at the very least, a cinephile filmmaker), but while I can like moments of his films, they all generally fall flat when considered as a whole. Licorice Pizza is no exception. I was more interested in the film than his previous ones, by its virtue of focusing on 1973 Hollywood, with its fictional characters interacting with the movie industry and more-or-less disguised historical figures. In that, the film generally holds its promises: Sean Penn plays a character meant to evoke William Holden (although the real Holden was reportedly not as much into romancing young girls as the Penn caricature), an excerpt of Breezy is quoted in an audition scene, Tom Waits has quite a bit of fun playing a take-off on Samuel Peckinpah, while Bradley Cooper easily walks away with the film’s highlights with a nightmare caricature of producer Jon Peters. Still, much of the film revolves around a teenager ably played by Cooper Hoffman, a child actor who realizes he’s got a brighter future as an entrepreneur than an actor. The plot of the film, as it goes from the first to the last scene, has to do with his romantic infatuation for a woman eight years older (a great performance from Alana Haim). And this is where Licorice Pizza, for all of its finely observed period details, Hollywood insider fun and good cinematic eye, starts falling apart. For one thing, there’s something gratuitously, deliberately wrong in picking a romance between a sixteen-year-old boy and twenty-four-year-old woman—just imagine a gender-flipped film and see how far that thought goes. It seems even more unexplainable that a slight rewrite could have made it more palatable—bump his age by three years, reduce hers by two and you’re close to something still interesting but not quite as repellent. But that’s small potatoes compared to the film’s biggest issue—an episodic structure that can’t keep its tone straight or its events at least plausible. It’s even worse when you consider that the entire film takes place over less than a year—and again, there’s a wasted opportunity to show growth and lessen the age-difference factor. But no, Licorice Pizza jumps from one long sequence to another—some of them funny, some of them not, many of them just dull. Now, not everything has to stick to a Fieldsesque three-act structure, but as not of it seems deliberate for no good reason. Is it still worth watching? Well, more than many other films of the same director. But frankly, given the choice, I get more consistent results with the vulgar authorism of Paul W. S. Anderson.

  • Sydney aka Hard Eight (1996)

    Sydney aka Hard Eight (1996)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, May 2019) I can’t say I’m a fan of Paul Thomas Anderson’s entire filmography, but a look at his first feature film reveals something far more conventionally enjoyable than his later, more ambitious but also more esoteric efforts. Hard Eight is a straight-ahead neo-noir, taking place in the demimonde of professional gamblers and small-time criminals. Here we have an elder gambling pro with a shady past (Philip Baker Hall, a bit of a revelation in a leading role), taking a younger, definitely dumber man (John C. Reilley, not really breaking out of his screen persona) under his wing. Things spin a bit out of control when the younger man gets enamoured of a cocktail waitress/prostitute (Gwyneth Paltrow, back when she deigned take on such roles), and a dangerous crook (Samuel L. Jackson, up to his usual standards) realizes he knows a secret. It’s not much of a plot (and one key element is far too much of a coincidence to be explained away), but Hard Eight plays it with restrained focus, leaving the spotlight for the actors to deliver understated work. The lean and mean crime plotting means that the film doesn’t try to bite off more than it can chew, and the entire result feels accomplished. Frankly, I liked it better than many of Anderson’s more acclaimed films … and I find it interesting how many of today’s leading filmmakers emerged in the mid-nineties by doing neo-noir (see Following and Seven).

  • Phantom Thread (2017)

    Phantom Thread (2017)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, October 2018) Let’s face it—a Paul Thomas Anderson film taking place in the 1950s British haute couture world isn’t exactly the kind of pulse-pounding excitement I prefer from movies. But Phantom Thread does work—by getting us insidiously interested at the quirks of a demanding fashion designer (Daniel Day-Lewis, up to his usual high standards in a familiar role) and then slowly leading us into a spectacularly dysfunctional romance that, we come to understand, is the only kind of love that will be deemed acceptable by such a person. As usual for Anderson’s films, there is a lot more under the surface than the tranquil façade will suggest—when it gets down to business, Phantom Thread has a lot to say about the toxic archetype of the eccentric genius and the toll they take on everyone else in their personal orbit. It may dress it up in fancy clothing, but it remains a character study and a commentary on the kind of OCD superhero (cranky but so competent!) that pop culture obsesses over lately. Amazingly enough, Day-Lewis finds a good sparring partner in relative newcomer Vicky Krieps, with different acting styles and temperaments complementing each other. While the film moves slowly, it does have enough moments of humour and gender-switched Gothic romance to keep things interesting. I can’t say I loved Phantom Thread, but I liked it quite a bit more than I thought I would, and that’s a praise enough for me.

  • Inherent Vice (2014)

    Inherent Vice (2014)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Video on Demand, April 2015)  “Chinatown meets The Big Lebowski” is an imperfect and unfair way of describing Inherent Vice, but it’s better than most.  As a thriller set in the drug-addled subcultures of 1970s Los Angeles, featuring a protagonist not overly concerned with the trappings of the Private Investigator lifestyle, this is an investigation that doesn’t necessarily go to expected places, each elliptical scene not entirely connected to the previous one.  It can be heartbreaking, hilarious, confusing and fascinating in rapid succession, floating above its own plot in a haze of altered perceptions.  If, from this summary, you’re getting the idea that this is a challenging film that doesn’t really want to be seen conventionally, you’re right.  But it is, after all, a Paul Thomas Anderson film, and so it’s best approached as an experience than a story.  Fortunately, there are a few fantastic moments: Martin Short has a hilarious small role as a drugged-up dentist, there is a raw long single-shot love scene that’s a thing of wonder, and the recreation of 1970s Los Angeles is credible.  But the film does annoy as much as it rewards: there are more than a few lengths, the scenes aren’t necessarily accessible, the plot gets overly complex (the way it flouts genre conventions doesn’t help) and the use of a few actors rings falsely at time (Owen Wilson in a dramatic role, as unfair as it sounds, is a bit of a stretch)  Inherent Vice may not be to everyone’s liking, but there are enough great moments here and there to warrant a viewing even for those who may not be entirely enthusiastic about Anderson’s films.

  • The Master (2012)

    The Master (2012)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2013) There are times where I feel guilty of apparently not being able to appreciate the acclaimed genius of writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson, and then there are times where I’m comfortable not being enthusiastic about his films.  The Master clearly falls into the second category, as it meanders all over the place and almost forgets to actually tell a story.  Much has been made of the film’s connections to Scientology, but don’t read too much into it: While Philip Seymour Hoffman plays a decent L. Ron Hubbard stand-in, and while much of his cult’s teachings find resonance in Dianetics, Anderson doesn’t try to tell anything close to a true story.  The Master instead focuses on a man left adrift after his military service in World War II, and finding some purpose in associating with the burgeoning cult.  Joaquin Phoenix is remarkable in the lead role, radiating danger, pain and coiled aggression in nearly every frame.  Amy Adams is almost as surprising in a shrewish role far away from her usual good-girl screen personae.  And much of The Master’s cinematography is truly remarkable, evoking a deep sense of craft in the way the film is presented.  The problem is that none of those interesting things amount to an interesting story.  The pacing is deathly slow, the loose ends are numerous and the conclusion can’t be bothered to actually conclude.  There’s little here to satisfy fans of sustained narratives, nor clear meaning.  I’ll still give a chance to Anderson’s next film.