Burning Questions From The 2026 Oscars

Conan as Aunt Gladys?

 

Shouldn't Weapons have been nominated for more than just one Oscar?

 

Did that opening just give the whole movie away?

 

Aunt Gladys playing ping pong?

 

Aunt Gladys in KPop Demon Hunters?

 

Was that opening sketch an early sign Amy Madigan would win?

 

Didn't you know Conan wouldn't waste any time cracking a joke about Chalamet's ballet insult?

  

Wasn't he right about Ted Sarandos having never been to a theater? 

 

Is it safe to assume that won't change now since Netflix isn't buying Warner Bros.? 

  

Isn't it the sign of a good joke when the audience gasps with discomfort?

 

Did Conan's coronation ceremony make you want to see him actually win a Oscar?

 

Did you remember that Zoe Saldaña won Supporting Actress last year?

 

Actually, that one was kind of memorable wasn't it?

 

Is she aging in reverse?

 

Was everyone prepared to get that category wrong? 

 

Was everyone prepared to get every category wrong?

 

Did every Oscar prognosticator breathe a sigh of relief when Madigan won? 

 

Wasn't it a given she'd give an entertaining speech? 

 

Was Conan's "Let's see him put his name in front of that" the line of the night?

 

How about his story about telling his wife he's the same age as Brad Pitt?  

 

Any doubt KPop Demon Hunters would take Animated Feature? 

 

Did they try to play those winners off quickly or what?

 

Was that because Madigan went long? 

 

Was an upset winner for Animated Short the last thing anyone needed for their Oscar scorecard?

 

Was this the earliest in the show we've ever gotten a musical performance? 

 

Wasn't that whole Sinners thing kind of wild?

 

Did you hear how into it the audience was? 

 

Would it have gotten your attention if Frankenstein lost Costume Design to Sinners? 

 

Or Makeup to...The Smashing Machine?

 

Who expected the first bleep of the night to come in the Hair/Makeup category? 

 

Did you expect cast members to introduce each of their own film's casting directors?

 

Conflict of interest much? 

 

But wasn't it kind of great? 

 

How about that ovation for The Secret Agent? 

 

Remember how sure everyone seemed of a category we've never had before?

 

Should we be a little more careful when predicting this one next year?

 

Did you see it as an ominous sign that Sinners lost in a category it was thought to be locked for? 

 

Did that bode well  for OBAA's Best picture chances?

 

A TIE????!!!!

 

How do we count this on our ballots? 

 

Did you notice how careful Kumail was to reassure us it wasn't a joke after what we saw happen with Moonlight and La La Land?  

 

And wasn't he right about the irony of the Live Action Short category taking twice as long now?

 

Retracting the winner's mic? Really?

 

Is Chalamet ever going to live this whole ballet thing down?

 

Unless he wins the Oscar, apologizes and dedicates it to dancers worldwide? 

 

Should he know it's bad when winners are somehow incorporating it into their acceptance speeches?  

 

Did you remember Kieran Culkin won Supporting Actor last year?

 

Didn't you just know Sean Penn wouldn't be there?

 

"Or didn't want to?"

 

Wasn't that Casablanca skit with Sterling K. Brown pretty clever? 

 

Will it ever get tiresome seeing Paul Thomas Anderson accept a writing Oscar?

 

But isn't it about time for a directing one?  

 

Would Ryan Coogler somehow losing Original Screenplay doom Sinners for the rest of the night? 

 

Wasn't it great to see Billy Crystal on an Oscar stage again?

 

Could it possibly be under sadder circumstances?

 

Did you forget just how many popular, widely beloved titles Rob Reiner directed?

 

Did you spot Fred Savage on stage?

 

Wasn't that tribute an appropriate segue into the In Memoriam segment?

 

Is "appropriate" not usually the word we'd use to describe how they handle this portion of the show?  

 

Isn't it scary the names we lost his past year? 

 

Diane Keaton, Catherine O'Hara, Val Kilmer, Robert Duvall, Robert Redford?  

 

Did they really just leave out James Van Der Beek?!

 

Eric Dane?

Brigitte Bardot? 

 

How much longer are they going to keep pulling this?  

 

Aren't you just waiting to hear the producers' lame excuse...again? 

 

Were you about to lose it until remembering they did include Gene Hackman in last year's segment?   

 

Did anyone else have problems understanding Barbra Streisand?

 

Wait, doesn't everyone call her "Babs?"

 

Not a question but...Grogu!

 

Isn't Avatar always good for an easy Visual Effects win?

 

They really want to get this thing finished by 10:30 don't they?

 

Didn't Grogu try his best to clap?

 

Why does the upcoming The Mandalorian and Grogu movie feel four years too late?

 

Remember when that Kimmel guy hosted the Oscars?

 

Did its title alone sway members to vote for Mr. Nobody Against Putin? 

 

Did the lack of political speeches come to a screeching halt with this category?

 

Isn't F1 by far the weakest of the Best Picture nominees?

 

Am I the only one who doesn't get the deep affection for Bridesmaids? 

 

But wasn't that bit with the notes funny?

 

Did Maya Rudolph have the best opening line with "Earlier today while I was counting my money?" 

 

Did you expect the Academy President to look like a cross between Anna Camp and Brittany Snow?

 

Lewis Pullman does really look a lot like his dad doesn't he?

 

Did OBBA's editing win lock its Best Picture Oscar?

 

Or maybe not after that Sinners cinematography upset?

 

Can you believe a woman's never won in this category before now? 

 

Didn't Train Dreams deserve it?

 

Isn't "Golden" inbsanely catchy?   

Javier Bardem doesn't hold back does he? 

 

Did anyone remember that Lionel Ritchie won an Original Song Oscar for White Knights?

 

Or recall the last time Diane Warren wasn't nominated?

 

They really didn't want that "Golden" songwriter to speak did they?

 

Weren't the producers downright militant in cutting time this year?

 

Doesn't it feel good to finally say PTA has a directing Oscar? 

 

Wouldn't Zendaya and Pattinson in a PTA movie be intriguing? 

 

Isn't it the truth that Adrien Brody saved last year's show from running short? 

 

Has the Best Actor race ever been this tight? 

 

Okay, maybe not? 

 

Didn't Michael B. Jordan's mom look proud? 

 

Didn't he give a classy speech of appropriate length? 

 

But can we please keep Will Smith's name out of our mouths at the Oscars? 

 

So maybe it didn't end by 10:30 but they still made really good time didn't they? 

 

Is it hard for anyone to forget Mikey Madison beating Demi Moore last year? 

 

Was it even possible to imagine a scenario where Jessie Buckley loses? 

 

Are there any actors who can't sing?

 

Didn't the best film win for a change? 

 

How about that impressive 1975 Best Picture nominee list PTA rattled off? 

 

Isn't he right about Chase Infiniti being the heart of that movie? 

 

How was she not even nominated?  

 

But isn't it cool how she was named after two of 1995's most memorable movie characters?  

 

Was Marty Supreme just completely shut out? 

 

How about the show's ending skit? 

 

Was that even more of a spoiler than the opening?

 

Or maybe not, if you didn't know which nominated picture they were spoofing? 

 

Does appointing Conan as "Host For Life" actually not sound like such a bad idea? 

One Battle After Another

Director: Paul Thomas Anderson
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Sean Penn, Benicio del Toro, Regina Hall, Teyana Taylor, Chase Infiniti, Wood Harris, Alana Haim, Paul Grimstad, Shayna McHayle, Tony Goldwyn, John Hoogenakker, Starletta DuPois, Eric Schweig, D.W. Moffett, Kevin Tighe, Jim Downey, James Raterman, Dijon Duenas 
Running Time: 162 min.
Rating: R

**The Following Review Contains Plot Spoilers**

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

With a few masterpieces already under his belt, many assumed Paul Thomas Anderson had nothing further to prove, his recent projects merely reaffirming what most of the filmmaker's hardcore fanbase always knew. And while incapable of a total misstep, we've accepted the fact he keeps carving out his own cinematic arthouse niche of sorts. That's why the notion any Anderson project could carry mainstream appeal, capture the cultural zeitgeist or take place in contemporary times always seemed absurd, even for our greatest director. It became less about whether he could do it than if he'd ever really want to. But all that doubt comes to end with One Battle After Another, an explosive departure miles removed from anything he's previously done. 

A strangely accessible crowd pleaser, it opens with enough timely parallels to have us worrying what's ahead, before taking a more personal, affecting turn matched only by its darkly twisted sense of humor. Very loosely adapted from Thomas Pynchon's 1990 novel Vineland, it's also about as unfilmable as the author's similarly challenging Inherent Vice, which Anderson tackled with lukewarm results. Only now he's cracked the code, giving this enough of an overhaul that it's completely unrecognizable from the source material. What he does retain are its themes and ideas, brought to vivid life by a handful of brilliant performances from actors both new and familiar. The film doesn't sneak up on you so much as throw a live hand grenade in your lap, with scenes that should continue replaying in viewers' minds long after the experience ends. 

"Ghetto" Pat Calhoun (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Perfidia Beverly Hills (Teyana Taylor) are members of the far-left revolutionary group, the French 75, breaking out detained Mexican immigrants from California's Otay Mesa Detention Center. During the raid, Perfidia encounters and sexually assaults officer Steven J. Lockjaw (Sean Penn), who enjoys this a little too much, especially once he realizes he can use her to his advantage. So when Perfidia abandons Pat and their newborn baby Charlene to dive headfirst into her activism, she's caught by Lockjaw, who cuts her a deal to rat out the rest. But she soon disappears from witness protection while Pat and Charlene go on the run.

Flash forward sixteen years and Pat and Charlene are now living off the grid in a sanctuary city under the aliases of Bob and Willa Ferguson (Chase Infiniti). With Bob now a paranoid stoner overprotective of his free-spirited teen daughter, Lockjaw has since moved up the government ranks. He's also aiming to join the exclusive, far-right white supremacist group, the Christmas Adventurers Club, so long as a disqualifying secret from his past doesn't come to light. But when a burnt out Bob realizing Willa's been targeted, he desperately tries to find her as a deadly cat-and-mouse game ensues with his former nemesis.

The story really starts cooking with gas after the time jump, though you could argue it happens earlier when a ferociously determined Perfidia first encounters slimy commanding officer Lockjaw. To an extent, they're both using each other, as she wields her sexuality as a weapon after recognizing his interest, which immediately borders on obsession. And it isn't long before he realizes the advantage he holds over her and the revolutionaries as a result.

There's a twisted, toxic psychological game playing out between Perfidia and Lockjaw that has us questioning whether they actually have feelings for each other or he's exaggerated the relationship in his delusional mind. And though we're never completely sure, these questions prove the film's far more interested in exploring the complicated motivations of its characters than inciting political debate.

Mayhem unfolds when a washed-up Bob gets the dreaded distress call that his local karate champion daughter is in danger, confirming the reality of his stoned out paranoia. And while he's prepared Willa for this moment, it's tough for the teen to take her kook of a dad seriously, especially since he's high as a kite, prone to irrational outbursts and perpetually clad in a beanie, bathrobe and oversized shades. 

While frequently mislabeled a "comedy," the film does have an extended stretch that undeniably qualifies, as Bob hilariously attempts to extract intel from the resistance without the required password his brain's too fried to remember. DiCaprio's in top form here alongside an effortlessly cool Benicio del Toro as Willa's Sensei, Sergio St. James, a community leader and immigrant smuggler who facilitates a deliriously entertaining escape. 

This isn't Sergio's first rodeo and it's a thrill watching how Anderson frames all the chaos around this beer-drinking zen hero who hardly breaks a sweat, remaining completely calm and controlled in the face of Bob's emotional breakdown. Of course, Bob screws everything up anyway, but that hardly matters with Sensei able to pick up the pieces, dust the ex-freedom fighter off and steer him in the right direction.

Teyana Taylor owns the first 30 minutes as the intimidating and vulnerable Perfidia, but after exiting, her past actions continue to inform the rocky father-daughter relationship between Bob and Willa. But what's more amazing is how much DiCaprio and Chase Infiniti manage to convey with their limited screen time together. In just a couple of minutes we can tell why Willa's been shielded from certain details, both for her own safety and to ease Bob's guilty conscience. They also let us look past the bickering to recognize how much they care for each other, especially in moments where you'd mistake Willa as the parent, trying to reign in her unhinged dad. She's also underestimated, which is about to change once the French 75's exhausted, but fiercely loyal Deandra (Regina Hall) takes her into hiding. 

The one mistake Perfidia can't erase is the deplorable Colonel Lockjaw, played by a phenomenal Sean Penn in one of his weirdest, creepiest turns. With a goofy haircut and stilted gait, he's the walking embodiment of every self-hating loser given too much power or authority. Each mannerism, line delivery and facial tick induce shivers, as Penn plays him with a Napoleon complex so frighteningly recognizable that he's constantly walking this tightrope between cowardice and egomania. 

It's only logical a covert cabal of wealthy white supremacists would view the sleazy Lockjaw as their ideal recruit, just as he'd make it his life's mission to join, tempted by the promise of being considered "superior." This leads to the unforgettable mid-film meeting in which the Christmas Adventurers' leader Virgil Throckmorton (Tony Goldwyn) reveals their newest prospect is instead a liability marked for elimination by the club's seemingly innocuous, Patagonia vest wearing hitman Tim Smith (John Hoogenakker). And Anderson presents this secret organization is terrifying in its everyday casualness, as the blaring holiday music and polite exchange of pleasantries only make their eventual discussion that much more disturbing.  

Once Willa realizes that she's the loose end Lockjaw needs tied, it's flight or fight mode from here on out, with the film's sensational second half belonging to a revelatory Infiniti, who channels Willa's fear, angst and sadness into a struggle for survival. Going toe-to-toe in an intense verbal and physical showdown with Penn, Infiniti portrays her as an endless well of resourcefulness as insurmountable danger looms. It'll culminate in a Bullitt-inspired car chase unlike any sequence we've recently seen on screen, with Anderson hypnotically shooting the three vehicles over the rolling hills of California's desert highway as if we're on a dizzying rollercoaster simulator. The risk of a crash or flip keeps the stressful, elegantly edited sequence humming until the distance between cars closes and a believably executed payoff comes. And what a clever one it is, revealing the depth of Willa's ingenuity, as well as the justifiable doubts and suspicion that linger even after she survives the most traumatizing of threats. 

The film's final coda is about as strong as endings come, arriving after this jaw dropping twist that sees a character finally get his comeuppance from those just as equally evil. And while Jonny Greenwood's pounding score underlines the unsettling action, Anderson also delivers a pair of unexpected needle drops so effective it that takes a beat to properly recognize songs we've heard countless times, just never in this context. But now it's impossible to ever hear them the same way again, especially one that propels Willa into the next stage of her life's journey. 

Though its story centers around revolutionaries and their failed attempts to escape the past, it's the familial through line that gives this exhilarating film its heart and soul, sucking them down a wormhole of paranoia and conspiracies. It also marks the rare instance where moving a book's period setting into the modern era actually pays off, lending an immediacy to these events that could only derive from its timing. Debate will ensue where it ranks in Anderson's filmography, but you have to believe it's up there, as he pulls off a feat even his biggest supporters didn't think he had in him.          

Licorice Pizza

Director: Paul Thomas Anderson
Starring: Alana Haim, Cooper Hoffman, Sean Penn, Tom Waits, Bradley Cooper, Benny Safdie, Skyler Gisondo, Mary Elizabeth Ellis, John Michael Higgins, Christine Ebersole, Harriet Sansom Harris, Joseph Cross, Maya Rudolph
Running Time: 134 min.
Rating: R  

★★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

What's always been distinctive about Paul Thomas Anderson films is his ability to make a story that in anyone else's hands would seem slight feel more important, regardless of whether it actually is. The coming-of-age comedy-drama Licorice Pizza is probably the most accessible mainstream picture he's made, which isn't to imply it any way lacks the rebellious spirit found in his most acclaimed work. It's like a less volatile Punch-Drunk Love, with portions that will remind some of Almost Famous, Magnolia and even some Boogie Nights in terms of tone and setting, while strangely sharing little in common with any of them. You could even consider it PTA's answer to Quentin Tarantino's Once Upon a Time in... Hollywood in how we're transported to such a semi-autobiographical time and place that clearly means a lot to the filmmaker, populated it with weird details, complex characters and a distinctive style that makes a superficially insignificant tale resonate far deeper.

It's hard not to love this no matter which crazy direction it takes us in because the devil's in the details and there are so many welcome distractions and asides that prove as rewarding as the main plot. That it's anchored by two perfectly cast, astonishingly talented actors making their big screen debuts only enhances the feeling we've been dropped into something special and may as well just enjoy the ride. If the knock against PTA has been that he's a superior director to writer, this film won't serve as the strongest counterargument with its unorthodox narrative structure, but that's splitting hairs considering how few equal him in either department. Containing certain elements that carry widespread appeal, it'll connect most with fans who couldn't wait to see what he had up his sleeve. And it doesn't disappoint. 

It's 1973 in the San Fernando Valley and 15-year-old actor Gary Valentine (Cooper Hoffman) spots 25-year-old photographer's assistant Alan Kane (Alana Haim) at his high school's picture day and immediately falls for her. After he strikes up a flirtatious conversation and invites her to dinner, she kind of shoots him down, while not entirely dismissing the offer. Much to his surprise, she actually shows up and they embark on a friendship Alana insists is completely platonic. But when Gary needs a chaperone to go to New York for a press tour for a comedy film he's appearing in with actress Lucy Doolittle (Christine Ebersole), Alana agrees to accompany him.

When Alana starts dating Gary's castmate Lance (Skyler Gisondo), a jealous Gary focuses on launching a waterbed company, which she soon joins in on as his assistant. Struggling to balance running the business with whatever their relationship has become, Alana tries to get into acting, earning a coveted audition opposite self-absorbed screen legend Jack Holden (Sean Penn). Meanwhile, Gary must deliver a waterbed to psychotic, mercurial film producer Jon Peters (Bradley Cooper). But even amidst this ongoing craziness and their lives moving in seemingly divergent directions, Gary and Alana always seem to circle back to each other. 

Loosely inspired by the life of Anderson's friend, child actor and producer Gary Goetzman, who really did start a waterbed company and pinball arcade and appeared in Yours, Mine and Ours with Lucille Ball, the rest is filled in with various stories and recollections from growing up in the Valley during the early 70's. While the most obvious influence on Anderson would seem to be something along the lines of Fast Times at Ridgemont High, the story itself seems almost too offbeat and intimately contained to invite such a broad comparison. It's actually closer in spirit and execution to Richard Linklater's underrated Everybody Wants Some!!, which was set a little later but has a very similar hangout feel that rarely depends on plot.

The script takes many detours, but they're entertaining ones that further the relationship between the two main characters, which is a whole conversation in itself. For all the controversy, it's safe to say that a 25 year-old woman dating a 15 year old boy in a fictional film set in the early 70's probably wouldn't have attracted as much attention and criticism even just five years ago unless the genders were reversed. Viewed in context, there's barely a sexual component to it, the issue's acknowledged, and the relationship itself is so unusually presented throughout, it's easy to forget what we're supposed to be offended by. In other words, you'll probably be too busy laughing with and at their awkwardness to really care. Also, it's 1973, so if you're going to make a film set in that era, accuracy counts, and this plays how it would then, now matter how differently it may look through 2022 glasses.

A similar, though slightly less strong defense can be extended to John Michael Higgins' restaurant owner character, Jerry Frick, who talks in a demeaning Asian accent to his Japanese wives. Is it offensive? Of course, because he is, and that stupidity is pretty much the point of the entire exchange, as we're supposed to notice it because these characters sure won't. And in showing what everyone was once willing to overlook, it becomes a little more culturally accurate and shameful than we were counting on. Of course, all of this is just a reaction to a reaction, as we're too caught up in what's happening with Gary and Alana to worry how about how badly people behaved in the early seventies.

The two leads not only create magic together onscreen, but individually convey a quirkiness and relatability that's just right for whom they're playing. While Cooper Hoffman is the late Philip Seymour Hoffman's son and while there's definitely a physical resemblance, he conveys an entirely different vibe in this role, playing a protagonist that'll remind many of William Miller from Almost Famous if he was infused with the nerdy bravado of Rushmore's Max Fischer. Outgoing and even a little devious in trying to accomplish his goals, he's an old 15 and knows it, as Hoffman's so good at playing this kid whose ambitious bluster hides the fact that he's not quite experienced enough for whatever comes next. He fakes it until he makes it, before faking it some more.  

Like Gary, Alana's an endearing mess spinning in different directions, only lacking the drive and questioning why she's hanging out with him and his teenage friends. As this walking quarter-life crisis, Haim pretty much owns the film and her casting's a masterstroke in the sense that the indie singer looks as if she could have stepped out of a time machine from the 1970's while radiating a natural, effortless charisma that promises a very bright acting future. Blurring the lines even further, Alana Kane's family is played by Haim's real life one, with sisters and HAIM bandmates, Danielle and Este making appearances alongside their parents. Even if Haim did this once and went back to her day job, her work opposite Hoffman would still be hilariously unforgettable, as are the scenes she shares with Sean Penn as this a William Holden-inspired actor who takes an interest in Alana. We're not quite sure what to make of that, until we are, and then the whole thing flies off the rails when Tom Waits enters the picture as an unhinged director indulging his friend's worst and wildest impulses.

An intriguing sub-plot in which Alana works for Los Angeles mayoral candidate Joel Wachs (Benny Safdie) doesn't go where you'd expect, proving to be one of many examples of Anderson fictionalizing historical facts to better fit the picture he's painting. But the real scene stealer is Bradley Cooper, who's take on real-life producer Jon Peters is an amalgamation of every insane, hyper aggressive 70's studio exec with the volume cranked to eleven. Gary and Alana's adventure in delivering his waterbed comprises the film's most electric and hysterical sequence of events, as we hold our breathe waiting for this lunatic to completely snap.

As would be expected for a film titled after an L.A. record store chain, the soundtrack is loaded with era-specific hits and even some obscure but no less inspired musical choices that compliment Jonny Greenwood's score and are perfectly incorporated the narrative. Songs from Todd Rundgren, David Bowie, Donovan, The Doors, Sonny and Cher, Paul McCartney and Wings and others might make it the most musically packed film of PTA's career, nearly doubling as the ultimate "Best of" seventies compilation.  

Anderson's willingness to take the characters on these comedic tangents is what sets this apart from most in its realm. You can practically hear the accusations that the film's about nothing, with the machinations of the plot taking a backseat to a mood and sense of nostalgia that's evoked, even for those who may not have come of age during the specific period. There's just so much to enjoy and take in here, even if viewers may be scratching their heads at all of its delightful eccentricities. Where Licorice Pizza ranks on the PTA scale will vary across the board, but love it or not, the longer this sits the more oddly memorable it becomes, proving in the end to deliver exactly what we came for.

The Master

Director: Paul Thomas Anderson
Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Amy Adams, Jesse Plemons, Madison Beaty, Ambyr Childers, Laura Dern, Rami Malek
Running Time: 137 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

   **Spoiler Warning: The Following Review Reveals Plot Details**

"Processing" is a word frequently used throughout Paul Thomas Anderson's The Master, and that's fitting considering it also describes what many will be doing after having seen it. In the film, processing (or "auditing" in Scientology speak) is the battery of repetitive and abrasive questioning roaming seaman Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) endures at the hands of Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman), the scientist and author behind a controversial movement called "The Cure." This scene is, if you forgive the pun, a master class in screen acting that holds you enraptured for its duration. It's best to get it out of the way now and state there's absolutely no question the Cure is based on Scientology and the character of Dodd is roughly if not directly, inspired by L. Ron Hubbard. There's no need to dwell on it because it only provides the jumping off point and might be the least important element of a film so challenging, frustrating and baffling you may as well skip the first viewing all together because it'll demand at least three.

Having seen the film only days ago, I'm still trying to make sense of what it all means and slowly coming to terms with the fact that that's what makes it unforgettable. The narrative is all over the place, the two lead characters experience no growth from beginning to end and you'll want to bang your head against a wall when it's over. And yet it's like no American film in recent memory and sticks out like a sore thumb amongst PTA's previous work, none of which has ever been known for its conventionality. But with this, he's really made a raw statement, and while it may take years to figure out what that statement is, he's one of the few filmmakers left who refuse to just give us the answers. With expectations sky high, it was certainly possible to predict the picture's greatness, but few could have guessed it would be this impenetrable.

Our first glimpse of Freddie Quell is under his helmet as World War II comes to an end. A mentally ill alcoholic prone to fits of spontaneous rage, he can't hold down a job as a department store photographer, resulting in a memorable scene early on where he verbally and physically abuses a married customer. It's worth mentioning he's married only because that fact seems to be what drives Freddie over the edge. His quest for women and a family is a reoccurring theme throughout the film and his burning need for human companionship provides the purpose for his existence and, as the film argues, ours.

After a drunken night, Freddie ends up as a stowaway on the ship of the enigmatic Lancaster Dodd, whose quasi-religious, philosophical movement explores past lives, time travel, processing and forms of hypnosis to return the human form to its perfect essence, thus eradicating war and disease. In this young man, Dodd immediately sees an animal that needs to not only be contained, but cured and senses he could be the perfect subject for his practices, which are coming under increased scrutiny. A friendship and father-son dynamic that develops is at times touching, volatile and pathetic in how both seem to fulfill a need in each other. Freddie, the animal, needs the stability and focus the Cure's teachings provide so he can empty his emotional baggage. Dodd secretly and desperately wants the freedom Freddie has but his movement is built entirely around suppressing those animalistic urges.  His pregnant wife Peggy (Amy Adams) feels Freddie is past help and his unpredictability is a detriment to their cause. She may be right, but in Dodd's mind, it's as much his mission to prove himself right as to rescue a lost soul.

As Freddie, Joaquin Phoenix gives a performance unlike any other we've seen, playing an unconventional, often unlikable protagonist who keeps you on edge every moment he's on the screen with his volatility. Besides having literally no idea what he'll do from one scene to the next or when he'll just completely lose it, his exaggerated movements and mannerisms more closely resemble an old man than a young seaman. Phoenix is pushing 40 yet is still somehow completely believable as being in his twenties, middle-aged or an old man. Here it seems he gets to play all three as the character's actual age remains one of the film's many mysteries.

Slouched over like a hunchback with his pants nearly pulled up to his chest, words frequently come out of his mouth as a drunken warble with his emotional instability physically manifesting itself to the point that he looks physically ill. It's not just a brilliant performance, but a dangerous one because he keeps you on edge and anxious the whole time you're watching, constantly in your face and taking on the persona of a wild animal. During one of Freddie's many meltdowns Dodd reminds him he's the only one who likes him, and he's right. Of all the kooky theories Dodd dispenses throughout, the one that strangely seems the most plausible is that these two men were destined to somehow find one other across time and space.

Hoffman infuses Dodd with a blustery charisma and Wellesian presence that belies a deeply insecure fraud you still can't help but admire for his dedication, if nothing else. His best scenes are when his practices are questioned, causing the usually calm, confident Master to briefly lose it before realizing that doing so is a betrayal of the Cure's methods, which are frequently attacked. If behind every great man is a woman then Dodd's is his wife Peggy, played by Amy Adams in the scariest performance of her career. "Terrifying" or "emotionless" aren't adjectives usually associated with her work but she has a scene (and if you've seen it you know EXACTLY which one) that's so shocking it instantly puts everything about their marriage and this movement in full perspective. It's clear who the real puppet master is, as we find out Freddie isn't the only man in the film controlled by the opposite sex. A perfectly cast Jesse Plemons (who really resembles a younger Hoffman) has only a few scenes as Dodd's son Val but they're revelatory, with one resulting in perhaps the film's most memorable line. Even he thinks his father's a fraud. Laura Dern has an extended cameo as a Cure follower who eventually starts asking to many questions for her own good, and Dodd's.  

Viewers are likely to take an issue with the fact that the narrative follows an unusual trajectory that seems to spit in the face of what we'd consider a conventional three-act structure. There's this expectation that the film is building toward some kind of climactic showdown between the Dodd and Freddie, similar to the final violent bowling alley scene between Daniel Plainview and preacher Eli Sunday in There Will Be Blood. But this isn't that kind of a relationship, and the more we want to see Freddie break away and become Dodd's nemesis, the further PTA seems to tug in the opposite direction. The battle taking place is within themselves and it each needs the other to help fight it. The movie builds and builds before fading away into the distance, leaving the viewer to consider the possibility that some people just might be incapable of change, hardwired to sabotage their own happiness.

At one point Dodd tells Freddie that if he figures out a way to live without a master to let the rest of the world know because it would truly be a first. Dodd's master is his wife, while Freddie also has a girl, Doris (Madison Beaty) he thinks is waiting for him back home. And by the time he actually realizes what he wants, it's gone. The film starts almost exactly where it begins, with Freddie adrift. All he wanted was a human connection, and his brief bond with Dodd provided him with it, or maybe just the illusion and comfort of one. Like most things in his life, he couldn't find the discipline to dedicate himself to it, though a closing scene (extremely reminiscent of A Clockwork Orange) suggests the Cure's practices had some kind of lasting impact, even as we're unsure of exactly what. The jury's out on whether there's any hope for this character, or whether anyone will ever be able to fully dissect what occurs in the last third of the picture. In a way, the movie never truly ends.

About as divisive and polarizing as it is, a movie theater just might be the best and also worst place to see The Master. Technically speaking, it demands to be seen on the big screen to absorb the visual grandeur and hear Jonny Greenwood's unmistakably sad and sublime score that's more than a few miles removed from his previous PTA collaboration on There Will Be Blood. Yet, it so complex and intellectually involving it's impossible to imagine seeing it with an audience and being as absorbed as you would be watching it alone without any external distractions.

Too often period pieces are prone to feeling to cold and distant with such a technical emphasis on capturing a certain era (in this case the post-war 50's) that the story's pathos is lost. What PTA does better than anyone, and takes to a whole new level here, is check both those boxes in creating an epic that's technically brilliant without sacrificing emotional depth. It doesn't feel like a museum piece to be admired and respected from arms length like so many others released this time of year, but instead a picture to dive into repeatedly, making new discoveries on each viewing.

With this effort PTA cements his status as the best American filmmaker working today, surpassing his closest competitor David Fincher, whose recent Dragon Tattoo amounted to little more than pulpy nonsense. Even those who despise this picture (and boy will there be) couldn't reasonably consider it a disappointment just on the basis of the discussion and analysis it inspires. It also features two of our greatest actors in Phoenix and Hoffman going head-to-head in what will no doubt years from now be looked at as the pinnacle of their work. It's difficult enough to find new releases that give us something we've never seen before but this does that while still having enough respect for its audience to let us unravel what that "something" is. Challenging beyond belief, what throws you off most about The Master is how it doesn't actually begin until after the final credits roll. 

There Will Be Blood

Director: Paul Thomas Anderson
Starring: Daniel Day-Lewis, Paul Dano, Dillon Freasier, Ciaran Hinds, Kevin J. O' Connor
Running Time: 158 min.
Rating: R

**** (out of ****)

Yes, Paul Thomas Anderson's oil epic There Will Be Blood is as great as everyone says. But it's a fact I wasn't quite so sure of immediately. When it ended I knew I had seen a technical masterpiece but doubted if it was anything more than that or was even something I'd in good conscience recommend to anyone else. It's long, loud and drenched in despair.

In a year of depressing films this stands head and shoulders above them all as the most depressing. Then I woke up the next morning and found I couldn't shake certain scenes and images from my mind. After thinking it over it finally occurred to me that much like a lot of Anderson's output it's one of those slow burners that keeps coming back to you long after its over. It deserves to stand as an important American cinematic achievement of the highest caliber.

So far Anderson has directed five films and three of them (Boogie Nights, Magnolia and now this) could be considered masterpieces. That's not the part that's a big deal though, as plenty of other filmmakers could lay claim to that feat (but probably not at the age of only 37). The part that's so shocking and is an unparalleled accomplishment by any living director is that each of those three films have nothing in common. If they were blindly screened, you'd probably guess they came from three different filmmakers. Throw in the two other excellent ones (Hard Eight and Punch-Drunk Love) and it would just further muddy the waters. Skeptics claim Anderson is just mimicking his favorite filmmakers. Boogie Nights was his Scorsese. Magnolia was his Altman. This is his Kubrick. But that's simplifying things and not giving him enough credit. Others influenced those filmmakers and if Anderson's entire career is built on just merely imitation then how come his films are so great?

The shell of There Will Be Blood is tougher to crack than any of Anderson's other efforts, many of which were also written off as inaccessible at the time of their release. This could never be my "favorite" P.T. Anderson film but because of it his other work may have to be reexamined and will probably now play even better because of it. The Quentin Tarantinos, Wes Andersons and David Finchers of the film world are brilliant but I don't get the impression they're challenging themselves with every outing. You can tell Anderson really went out of his milieu here, pushing himself hard and making what should be a fairly dry story crackle with unique excitement and energy. What sets him apart from his peers is his versatility, something I don't think I ever fully appreciated until this film. As great as I thought he was, I never once considered he could have had a film like this in him.

Loosely based on Upton Sinclair's 1927 novel Oil!, There Will Be Blood opens in 1898 when prospector Daniel Plainview (Daniel Day-Lewis) accidentally stumbles upon oil deposits in one of his silver mines. We flash forward a few years later where Plainview, now the owner of his own small drilling company, is left to care for the orphaned son of one of his workers who died in an accident. He raises the boy, H.W. (a captivating Dillon Freasier) as his own and names him partner in his fledgling operation.

By 1912, Plainview emerges as one of the most successful oil men in the country competing with powerhouses like Standard Oil and is approached by a young man named Paul Sunday (Paul Dano) who gives him a lead on land in California belonging to his father Abel (David Willis). Plainview attempts to swindle the old man, but Paul's twin brother Eli (also played by Dano), an evangelistic preacher and faith healer, knows of the land's rich oil deposits and attempts to extract to the best deal possible from Plainview, one that would most benefit his church and the community.

At first, Plainview and Eli, while not exactly on the same page, at least seem to be reading the same book and reluctantly understand where each is coming from. Or so it appears. They begrudgingly tolerate one another until it becomes clear to Eli that Plainview's promises to him and townsfolk are hollow ones. It's all about money for this man. Faith and corporate domination don't exactly go hand in hand and as problems with Plainview's plans and a series of unfortunate accidents just increase the tension between them until it finally explodes…literally and figuratively. The film shifts in dramatically from being about the turn-of-the-century oil boom to the attempted salvation of a man's damned, rotting soul overcome by greed.

The brilliance of this film lies in how it methodically shows its hand as a deep character study. Plainview almost appears to be somewhat of an admirable figure when we first meet him. But his ambition starts to get the best of him as this inexplicable force that seems to infest only the most competitive individuals drives him forward in his cruelty. He uses his own son to further his business interests, but doesn't hesitate in discarding him when he threatens to become a liability.

When a man (Kevin J. O'Connor) shows up out of nowhere claiming to be his half-brother he doesn't think twice about extracting what he needs from him either. For a while at least, he appears to be the only person Plainview comes close to forming any kind of meaningful connection with. Layers of his personality we couldn't have guessed existed start to manifest itself and by the last third of the film he's pretty much the most vicious monster you could lay your eyes on.

What's so scary about Plainview is the reality of his persona. You could easily throw him in any present-day boardroom in corporate America and he wouldn't lose any of his edge. Justifiably, many comparisons have been made between this film and Citizen Kane thematically and there's a lot to that, especially in the film's emotionally brutal last half-hour. Unlike Charles Foster Kane, however, we realize there's even less of a shot of redemption for this man and by the end of the picture he remains as much of an enigma as when it started. His actions become more heinous as the story wears on, reaching its crescendo with one of the most memorable final scenes and lines in recent film history. The last two words of dialogue written by Anderson couldn't have possibly been more appropriate and chilling.

At close of the film I questioned what the purpose of all of this was. To put the audience through pure emotional hell to deliver a message that greed is bad? I thought the film could join some other great films of the year in being technically brilliant, but emotionally empty. It's not though. The more I think about it the more I realize the entire story is almost driven purely by emotion, just not the kind we're used to seeing in a film. It's negative emotional energy and it's represented in Plainview's relationship with his son as well as with his unsettling encounters with Eli, brilliantly played by Dano. He goes toe-to-toe with one of our greatest actors and holds his own every step of the way.

There was no sense in even having a Best Actor race this year. It was over before it began. No acting work this year or maybe any other so far this decade approaches what Daniel Day-Lewis accomplishes here. It transcends acting, and in some strange way, also works as a dark parody. I recently saw a Saturday Night Live skit spoofing the character that wasn't very funny and would probably seem even less funnier to me now after actually seeing the film. This is because there are already elements of parody in the performance. You can't spoof something that's spoofing itself. Not only does Lewis manage to hit all the dark notes of Plainview perfectly, but he finds a way to slide humor in without it being overtly noticeable.


Some have criticized Day-Lewis' performance as being hammy and over-the-top and it sort of is, but what's so remarkable is how he turns those qualities into attributes that deepen the story's psychology. On a first viewing it may not be entirely noticeable, but on repeated ones it comes more clearly into focus. And surprisingly, that only makes Plainview's downfall scarier and that much more desperate. Even while hating him with a passion, we still deeply care about his fate. It can't be undersold how difficult it should be to sit through a film with a main character this despicable, not to mention one that's featured in every single scene of an almost three hour epic. His performance instead makes it an unforgettable experience.
There Will Be Blood bucks the trend of what can be expected from an Academy Award nominated period drama. That starts with a deafeningly loud, bizarre and unnerving musical score provided by Radiohead's Johnny Greenwood that was deemed ineligible for Oscar consideration because it incorporated pieces of previous recorded material. What makes it fascinating is how it breaks the unwritten rule that the music in a film is not supposed to draw attention to itself. All this seems to do is just that and at times I thought that it would be a better fit for a horror movie. Yet, it works. It works because this is essentially a horror movie and also precisely because it doesn't quite fit. It's uncomfortable and weird, keeping you on edge the entire time. Almost unhinged, like the main character and the film itself. It's touches and eccentricities like these that remind us this is very much a P.T. Anderson picture. Like casting Paul Dano as both brothers and writing them as twins, when the story doesn't even necessitate it at all… or does it? Part of me thinks it does.

This film will be compared to many others for years to come. There are traces of Lawrence of Arabia and Giant and that it doesn't seem out of place discussing this film in the same breath as those says a lot. Especially in regards to the breathtaking cinematography of Robert Elswit, who also shot Michael Clayton, and has had one hell of a year, taking home the statue for this. You could draw comparisons to many other films in terms of look and feel but the Kubrick comparison seems most valid.

Besides the dialogue-free opening 10 minutes reminiscent of 2001: A Space Odyssey, the unnerving music and the presence of a morally depraved central character there's a certain intangible factor. All of Kubrick's films seemed to exist in this indescribable vacuum of time where they never age or feel dated. I liked Boogie Nights and Magnolia a lot upon their initial releases but time has proven them to be more potent than anyone could have anticipated. The same fate likely awaits There Will Be Blood and it won't surprise me at all when the American Film Institute releases their next list of the 100 greatest films and this is on it, and probably in a pretty high position. This is that good.

I have mixed feelings showering so much praise on this film since it really doesn't need it. I've also grown sick of the Academy's new attitude of rewarding "feel bad" films in an attempt to look edgy. I'd like to tell myself they nominated this for all the right reasons but considering the film that beat this out for Best Picture was the equally morose No Country For Old Men, that's doubtful. However, if they are going that route I only ask they nominate something worthy. This definitely is. It wouldn't be a stretch to envision people still watching and talking about this film 50 years from now.

In true Anderson fashion, this will infuriate casual moviegoers while simultaneously sending diehard film buffs into a tailspin. But we know he won't make anything like it again. After this he'll move on to something completely different, which he'll also excel at. It's that quality that separates Anderson from the pack and will eventually land him a spot on the list with the greatest American filmmakers everyone accuses him of copying. There Will Be Blood is devastating and at times difficult to watch, but you'll find it's impossible to look away.