Paul Thomas Anderson’s The Master is both exactly what you expect and completely unexpected. Fans of the filmmaker will undoubtedly recognize his style, even though it has constantly evolved with each work. The movie is mesmerizing and unsettling. If you didn’t like There Will Be Blood, you more than likely won’t enjoy this one either. The pacing is similar and the momentary spouts of violence are there. Yet, as much as The Master feels like a blood relative of Anderson’s prior film, it’s far from it.
The following review will contain full spoilers. Please see the movie before reading.
I’ve had a day to think about The Dark Knight Rises and I’m ready to share my thoughts. But first, I should acknowledge that I saw the movie three times in a row: Midnight (regular), 3:10 am (IMAX) and 6:20 am (IMAX). While I would consider this technically a gut reaction review, I’ve formed my thoughts enough to share, but reserve the right to change my mind upon future dozens of viewings.
Wes Anderson is one of the few true auteur filmmakers left. His films don’t make a lot of money and he makes them in his own specific, quirky way. Either you love him or you don’t. If you don’t, Moonrise Kingdom won’t change your mind. But if you do, you’ll be in 90 minutes of heaven. Everything Wes Anderson has done up until now has simply set the tone for this masterpiece.
It’s time to shine a light on the millions of mindless, faceless henchmen who have lost their lives to fight our heroes. No longer shall hordes of alien races be massacred at the hands of one man. No longer will packs of secret agents drop like flies. No longer wil— oh, who am I kidding? Hollywood isn’t going to change. But this trend has bothered me for years. Whenever a hero (or villain) needs to prove their abilities to audiences, the filmmakers send mass of bodies their way, only to be wiped out one by one with a single blow. It’s tiresome. It’s dull. It’s boring. It’s utterly pointless.
[MILD SPOILERS AHEAD]
Every time a new romance film hits theaters, some moviegoers roll their eyes and others try to sweet-talk their boyfriend into going with them. Of course, by releasing the film on or around Valentine’s Day, they pigeon hole the reluctant male audience. But it’s narrow-sighted to just assume all romances are worthless cheese fests. They aren’t, even if you’d like them to be. I went into The Vow hoping for something worth remembering. And I think I got it, but then I couldn’t remember those moments anymore because Channing Tatum destroyed them like a snow plow to the back of the head with his flat, mumbling nervous acting. He’s like the love-child of Rocky Balboa and Hayden Christensen.