"The Master", under the auteur cult

The Master

Another example, perhaps one of the finest to add to my recurrent debate on the purpose of cinema and the concept of auteur. Paul Thomas Anderson has, in my opinion, three extraordinary films in his, to date, great career: "Boogie Nights", "Magnolia" and "Punch-Drunk Love". An ok debut with "Hard Eight", and then two movies where everything has become too "intellectual": "There Will Be Blood" and now, "The Master". I think I will call it the "Malick's syndrome", or the "Dude, where's my movie syndrome?". 

Perfectionism and ambition should be considered virtues on a filmmaker. Also being a polariser of audiences isn't bad per se (probably producers won't agree), as it usually means the director takes risks and wants to leave the mainstream pattern. Anderson, like Malick, have been following their own path since they decided to put themselves behind a camera. But rejecting commercial success doesn't automatically mean making great movies.

Anderson's way of filming is pure perfection. It's pointless to waste time trying to find something to criticiseize in what regards to technical aspects, so critics, you can sharp your pens here and look for the most bombastic praise: it will be more than deserved. On the other hand, I don't agree with the annoying score of Radiohead's Johnny Greenwood, who repeats all the tricks we heard on "There Will Be Blood".

As a matter of fact, "There Will Be Blood" and "The Master" seems to be connected. Both are epic, reflective depictions of human behaviour in heavy turmoil. Both are spectacular, uncomfortable and absorbing study-characters. And both have deep resonances with the country in which they both take place: the United States. But for me the difference lies on what Anderson cares about their stories. While on "There Will Be Blood", the "superficial" story, the oil prospection, was the solid pillar among the film evolved, on "The Master" there's not much for the audience to keep them focused on.
 
Indeed, the main attraction on "The Master" comes from the mind-blowing performances of two gigantic actors, Joaquim Phoenix as the tortured Freddie Quell and the infallible Philip Seymour Hoffman as Lancaster Dodd, the leader of a peculiar cult named The Cause in post-WWII America, plus the more subtle but equally powerful work of Amy Adams as Hoffman's wife. Their relationships and attitudes are what keeps the viewer connected with the film. But unfortunately that means "The Master" works better as a collection of distorted scenes that will blow your mind, not really as cohesive unit. Each time Hoffman and Phoenix share screen the film ignites, but the narrative structure doesn't allow that intensity to last. Anderson trio of characters should be included among the most-complex, fascinating and absorbing that have been ever written in cinema. But even the best characters need a story in which they evolve.

My concern is that I'm sure Anderson made his film less straightforward, more oblique, on purpose, convinced that credits him as a better auteur. The superficial story of the cult, on which the clash and connection of the two leading roles arise, had an incredible potential in its own. Fanaticism, religion, loyalty and belief, with the Scientology clearly on the background... But Anderson doesn't care about telling us a story, abandoning the cult subject and letting his film sinking into a regrettable chaos. Yes, at times its a highly and perversely attractive chaos, thanks to his filmmaking talents and propelled by the amazing actors. But the lack of cohesion and direction results into a frustrating and forgettable film as a whole, once finished.  

Powerful, masterfully filmed, with a superb trio of actors ready to knock you out with their performances... but at the same time little direction, resulting on, for me, a failed film.

SCORE: 5,75/10

"Martin Dressler", building the fake empire

Martin Dressler: The Tale of an American Dreamer 
Steven Millhauser

Very hard book to rate. It made think of many other references, in particular to movies like "There Will Be Blood" (the raise of America), "Synecdoche, New York" (these actors at the end), of books like "The Tenants of Moonbloom" and in a very particular note, on a very good friend of mine, and one of my all-time favourite songs, The National's "Fake Empire" (obvious reasons). The problem is that, while I enjoyed watching/reading/hearing these works, I cannot say the same about "Martin Dressler".

My biggest "issue" with the book is how it is written. Steven Millhauser prose (at least in this novel) is focused in descriptions, where his pen becomes exuberant and profuse. Something that very few exceptions aside, I find annoying. Worse, there's the feeling descriptions keep increasing while you read, there's a sense of accumulation, which exhausted me. I don't need that never-ending catalogue of objects.

Which in all honesty, is a quite unfair comment to the book, because that obsession for the details reflected in the exhaustive descriptions are quite in order to show us the nature of Martin Dressler, the main character of the novel. Martin is a very peculiar character. He is like a child that seems capable of succeeding in everything that he desires... to the point of being obsessed.. until he gets it... and then he needs a new obsession. I can see Millhauser sees Martin not only as a very interesting character, but also as a metaphor of the times he lived (the end of 19th-century and the start of the new one) and a prophetic voice of the capitalist self-made man in America. The one that was capable of creating and living the American Dream.

Millhauser writes about Martin's success in an almost magical way. He clearly has the intention of creating a fable, but the lack of realism in the "superficial story" to me was a bit tricky, or better said, discouraging. Is that ambition? Is he a pioneer? An enterpreneur? Or a silly kid that gets easily bored? While I don't think a clear answer is needed, as keeping the mistery could be even more interesting than resolving it, in my opinion "Martin Dressler" doesn't make the "trip" addictive for the reader, as I believe the book works better on a philosophical level.

Another clear example, at least to me, is the apparition of his "emotional live" while he keeps getting richer. On a symbolic level is a pretty suggesting combination, deconstruction of what can someone find attractive in a women (there's three of them here) with the addition of the typical sexual awakening (whorehouse classic scene) and being seduced while he is married. Sure, Caroline, Margaret and Emmeline all represent different sides of woman of that times. But again, on what regards to the development of the story, their role is very boring and poorly resolved (the "shooting" chapter in particular).

I don't want to be too hard with "Martin Dressler" as I can easily see the amount of incentives this book might have for many readers. Its stimulating, conceptually very rich and profuse in imagery (loved the dichotomy of going underground while at the same time aspiring to go higher with their hotels). Sure, Martin works great as a paradigm of capitalism, but sorry again, that interpretation also works for the book itself. Its a paradigm of ambition, in terms of structure, style and scope. Like capitalism, this book is a voracious monster that finally ends swallowing itself.

SCORE: 4,5/10