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The Master2012 | 137 min | R | 1.85:1
“The Master” attempts to simulate a collapse of hope brought on by tremendous trauma and acts of self-destruction. It’s the latest from Paul Thomas Anderson, one of the great filmmakers of our time, who makes a long-awaited return to screens after his last picture, 2007’s “There Will Be Blood,” barnstormed through cinemas, ending up with a few Oscars and a catchphrase that enjoyed time in the pop culture sunlight. “The Master” doesn’t share the sound and fury of “Blood,” with Anderson aiming for more spiritual matters rooted in real-world invention. Ambitious without a daredevil sensibility, this is not a feature that always commands the utmost attention, feeling a tad ponderous and unfocused at times. The creative elements are extraordinary as usual, yet there’s a palpable restraint to the material that keeps it from burrowing under the skin. “The Master” fumbles around in the dark, though it’s often an enthralling journey marked by fits of scorching passion and quaking frustration. 
An unbalanced man born from a mentally challenged mother, Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) has lost himself to alcoholism, a problem amplified by his stint in the Navy during WWII. Now free of hospitals and command, Freddie struggles to hold down jobs, growing more restless and irate with every step of his miserable life. Sneaking onboard a party boat to steal booze, Freddie catches the attention of Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman), a scholarly man manufacturing an empire with The Cause, a semi-religious organization built on the creator’s beliefs in the profundity of past lives and the illumination of rigorous mental testing. Taking a shine to Freddie based on a soulful connection to the frail man that he cannot pinpoint, Lancaster takes the drunk into his life, inspired by his tenacity and in awe of his gift whipping up powerful homemade cocktails (occasionally mixed with paint thinner and photo developing solution). With wife Mary Sue (Amy Adams) feeding him direction, Lancaster grows into an influential man, while Freddie struggles with the weight of introspection, confronting years of disappointment and abandonment while soaked in liquor, finding his place in The Cause compromised by his erratic behavior. “The Master” isn’t out to ravage Scientology, it merely wants to inspect its details to fuel a dramatic direction that’s close enough to the world created by L. Ron Hubbard without encouraging the baggage of slavish comparison. Even with only a cursory understanding of the religion, it’s easy to spot the parallels between The Cause and Scientology, with recorded therapy sessions stored by Lancaster for reasons unknown, while issues of manipulation (financial and mental) are raised, along with an emphasis in the extraordinary ego of the creator himself, who takes to challenges like a threatened pit bull and lords over his minions with great pomposity, with the accusation of an ongoing fabrication a very real possibility, suited up spectacularly in Lancaster’s intelligence and effusive demeanor. “The Master” is subtle when approaching comparisons, though it leaves a deep impression on Scientology, meditating on the true power of a man preaching to those in desperate need of direction. 
The character of Freddie is actually the focal point of “The Master,” used by Anderson as the ultimate example of a lost soul who cannot get his act together. Alcoholism has sapped his spirit, along with time at war, leaving him an empty vessel with a sullen exterior, still nursing pain caused when he once abandoned his true love. Using Freddie as our guide into The Cause, Anderson is able to study levels of salvation without committing to a full dissection of Scientology or testing inclinations toward ridicule. It’s a stable approach that permits observance of Lancaster’s intense methods of provocation as a path toward control, burrowing into Freddie’s gaseous mind to test its radioactivity, using repetition and fatigue to collapse defense mechanisms. While the true nature of The Cause is never revealed, Anderson wisely allows the viewer to decode intent, with enough evidence to condemn Lancaster, while the enlightened lives around him hint at a more blissful resolution. The mind control aspects of the screenplay are fascinating, though they seem intentionally blunted at times to keep the endgame vague, a development that can be wearisome, especially as the movie rolls into the sunset of its overlong 135-minute run time. While nurturing an unforgettable portrait of personal destruction, Joaquin Phoenix is often difficult to believe in the lead role. It’s a method performance taken to extremes, frequently more showy than inspiring, especially standing alongside such authoritarian work from Hoffman, whose screen command is fierce and communicative with a hint of surprise, as Lancaster appears bewildered by his power in the early going, looking to find comfort in a guru role he’ll possess for the rest of his life. However, with a Quasimodo posture and a face that resembles a catcher’s mitt that’s been left out in the rain, Phoenix demands camera time, putting on a wild show that’s bursting with rage and erratic directions, looking more like an acting exercise than an honest evaluation of a fried soul. Daniel Day-Lewis also launched himself into space in “Blood,” yet found a critical center to thespian madness, rooting the behavior in theatrics to portray a ruthless salesman. Phoenix doesn’t have the same inspiration, and Anderson often seems too fixated on the fireworks display, disrupting what passes here for narrative flow. 
Also worthy of celebration is Adams, in a revealing supporting role as Lancaster’s seemingly obedient wife. “The Master” gradually reveals the character in a surprising light during the movie, positioning Lancaster as a gun and Mary Sue as the hand that squeezes the trigger. I only wish there was more time devoted to their complicated dynamic, and less time with Freddie’s extended freak-outs. As with the rest of Anderson’s oeuvre, “The Master” is impeccably crafted, featuring stunning cinematography by Mihai Malaimare Jr., who brings clarity to the viewing experience that’s mesmerizing, sold with the director’s penchant for extended takes and screen mischief. It’s certainly a stimulating picture with many extraordinary moments of concentration. It’s audacity that appears to be missing here, along with cohesion, making “The Master” the least substantial film of Anderson’s career -- a real feat considering its controversial interests. Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Price Carson, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Amy Adams, Laura Dern, Ambyr Childers Director: Paul Thomas Anderson » See full cast & crew |
 
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