The Master

An incongruously underwhelming effort from Paul Thomas Anderson, The Master follows World War II veteran Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) as he flounders in a series of jobs before encountering an enigmatic, mysterious figure named Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman) – with the film subsequently detailing the bond that ensues between the two men as well as Dodd’s ongoing efforts at creating a faith-based organization known as The Cause. There’s little doubt that The Master fares best in its opening half hour, as writer/director Anderson, having brilliantly established the movie’s post-WWII landscape, does an expectedly superb job of transforming Phoenix’s damaged Freddie Quell into a seriously compelling figure – with the episodic, character-study vibe that ensues, as a result, as gripping and mesmerizing as one might’ve hoped. It’s only as Freddie slowly-but-surely is drawn into Dodd’s secretive, insular world that The Master begins to lose its grip on the viewer, with the increasingly aimless midsection wreaking havoc on the movie’s momentum and ensuring that it becomes more and more difficult to work up any real interest in either of the central characters’ exploits. The sporadic inclusion of engrossing sequences (eg Dodd “processes” Freddie), combined with Mihai Malaimare Jr’s striking cinematography and the uniformly stirring performances, ensures that total boredom never quite sets in, admittedly, yet the viewer ultimately can’t help but walk away from the movie without wondering just what the point of all this is – which finally does confirm The Master‘s place as the sort of film that one admires more than one enjoys (and that’s the last thing one would’ve expected from such a dynamic and visionary director).

*** out of ****