I’ll say this much for Paul Thomas Anderson: he’s one of
the few filmmakers working within the Hollywood system who can consistently
make gutsy and challenging films. He doesn’t pander to any audience; his
endings don’t come wrapped in tight packages; there is no paint-by-numbers to
tell you exactly how to feel and when. He creates emotionally and spiritually
complex works that often leave us scratching our heads and that maybe, just
maybe, leave us a little better off as human beings than when we walked into
his world.
With that said, I’m becoming increasingly frustrated by
his films. I don’t object to their complexity or challenges, but I have
misgivings about the general lack of joy to be found at any moments in The Master. Boogie Nights and Magnolia
are films I can watch over and over, finding joy amid the tremendous sorrow
every time. There was real vibrancy and panache in Anderson’s directing style.
He combined the dexterity of Altman maintaining multiple characters and threads
with the energy of Scorsese. Then he started to go quiet.





