The Master

Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix), a violent, alcoholic, sex-obsessed World War II veteran, makes the acquaintance of Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman) when he sneaks aboard the latter’s boat and offers moonshine. Dodd is an enigmatic figure who leads a movement called The Cause. Despite the hesitation of Dodd’s wife Peggy (Amy Adams), Dodd takes Freddie in and uses a series of questions and psychological experiments to uncover Freddie’s past trauma all while positioning him within The Cause’s power structure.

Given Hollywood’s preoccupation with Scientology, being able to make an A-list film that critically examines its origins (under the thinnest of veils) is a highly perilous undertaking. Paul Thomas Anderson, however, has some pretty mean feats to his name. After all, the director’s previous works include an Oscar-nominated porn drama, a three-hour interpretation of Aimee Mann’s music, and the unlikely popularization of “I drink your milkshake!” Thus, Anderson was not only able to make a film about Scient...ahem…The Cause, but make it well.

It’s no small help that Anderson had the perfect cast. As I’m Still Here showed us, Phoenix is in a league of his own when it comes to playing (at least one hopes he is) deranged lunatics. Hoffman, a frequent Anderson collaborator, adds another strong performance to his résumé. As Dodd, an L. Ron Hubbard proxy, he’s arguably no less crazy than Freddie, but his insanity is concealed by a veneer of sophistication and concern. Meanwhile, Adams continues to break her sickeningly sweet typecasting as doubting Peggy.

All of Anderson’s films are known for a rather distinct aesthetic, and The Master is no exception. Shot in California on 65 mm film, the movie has a grainy, sun-scrubbed look that perfectly suits its 1950 setting. Radiohead’s Johnny Greenwood, who memorably scored There Will Be Blood, does the same for this film. While his contributions here enhance the film’s mood, they are neither as powerful nor as persistent as they were in the previous project.

Despite the high level of craftsmanship, The Master often finds itself in want of direction. Of course, a certain openness fits the film’s theme of philosophical exploration, but neither Freddie’s violent outbursts nor The Cause’s growing popularity/notoriety contribute much in the way of mounting tension: both his affiliation with Dodd and Dodd’s ideology change, seemingly effortlessly, when convenient. For as interesting as the film’s premise is, it’s confounding that The Master doesn’t have more at stake.

For as much praise as Anderson received from There Will Be Blood, The Master will come as a disappointment as some. However, the two films couldn’t be more different. A better point of comparison is Anderson’s overlooked Punch-Drunk Love wherein an angry, dysfunctional soul (Adam Sandler in place of Phoenix) takes solace in the unorthodox (a harmonium in place of The Cause). The Master may not be a career highlight or the vicious satire some were hoping for, but it’s a curious, thought-provoking film in its own right.

8/10