Paul Thomas Anderson's "Inherent Vice" is a Visceral Experience, Even If It Does Confuse

(Photos courtesy of Warner Bros/NYFF)

Paul Thomas Anderson’s new film, “Inherent Vice,” asks an important question of its viewers: Where does a coherent plot factor into what makes a movie “good” or “bad?” If you place heavy importance on plot, then you will likely leave the film extremely frustrated. If you tend to rely on the feel of a film rather than specifically what is going on and why, however, then you will find it a hypnotic experience unlike anything else in cinema. 

It comes as no great surprise that the film’s helmer himself is an advocate of the latter contention. At his “On Cinema” masterclass at the New York Film Festival, where “Inherent Vice” premiered to mixed reviews this past weekend, Anderson stated: “I never remember plots in movies. I remember how they make me feel. I remember emotions and I remember visual things that I’ve seen and my brain has just never connected the dots of how things go together.” This almost seems to be an indirect response to the early criticism of his film, which almost entirely centered on its confusing plot. While it is certainly reasonable to be put off by a movie that (so far) seems to universally confuse, there is far too much else to “Inherent Vice” to simply write it off.

The film follows Doc Sportello, an often-stoned hippie private eye with long greasy locks and prominent mutton chops (played by a typically excellent Joaquin Phoenix), as he tries to appease ex-girlfriend Shasta (exciting newcomer Katherine Waterston) by investigating the disappearance of her new lover. Set in a drugged out ‘70’s Los Angeles with a hazy noir feel, Doc must weave his way through a maze of characters ranging from a saxophone player turned undercover cop (Owen Wilson) to a cocaine addict dentist (Martin Short), who is not above corrupting a young blonde patient of his, in order to find out just what the heck is actually going on.

The rest of the ensemble cast includes Josh Brolin, who plays Bigfoot, a hippie-hating cop who harasses Doc every chance he gets, Benicio Del Toro, Reese Witherspoon, Maya Rudolph, Jena Malone, and musician Joanna Newsom, who narrates the film. While the plot can at times be even more confusing than it sounds, perplexity is actually a part of this film’s charm, something it owes to its source material, the novel of the same name by famously reclusive novelist Thomas Pynchon. This marks the first time that Pynchon has allowed one of his novels to be adapted to the big screen, and according to his readers, the chaotic nature of the film can be directly traced back to the novel.

“It was a bit episodic and there was a sort of jumping from stone to stone to stone and sometimes these connected pieces were made in the book, sometimes they weren’t. There were various blind alleys and dead end streets,” said Anderson of adapting the novel.

Indeed, the film has a rapid pace and often the viewer is introduced to characters and situations that quickly disappear and end up having no real bearing in anything. That’s life; everything is not going to directly tie into everything else. In the detective field, that must be dealt with regularly. In that way, “Inherent Vice” honors realism, but it is really its surrealism that is eye catching.

In the lead up to the film’s first viewings, most expected Anderson to return to his “Boogie Nights” roots. In other words, most expected a lighter and more formal ensemble comedy. Instead, the film is much closer to Anderson’s most recent film, “The Master,” in its look and feel. Throughout that film, there are moments that although apparently embedded in reality, feel surreal. An apparent dream that ends up having some bearing in actuality towards the end of the film comes to mind. The same can be said of many moments in “Inherent Vice,” such as an odd trip to a psychiatric hospital by Doc.

Despite all of its outrageous comedic elements, there is a brooding sadness just below the surface of “Inherent Vice”. Pynchon readers say this is also present in the novel. However, it is also a common theme in Anderson’s work. In “The Master,” beneath lead character Freddie Quell’s (also played by Phoenix) corrosive veneer, there is a very detectable sorrow. The same can be said of most Anderson protagonists, but “Inherent Vice’s” contrasting tone is highlighted by raw, often sensual camerawork and an eventual sense of self-discovery by the protagonist, just as it is in “The Master.” Also, at the heart of the two stories are a girl and the regret of love lost, both of which come to an explosive peak in an incredible long-take between Doc and Shasta in “Inherent Vice.”

It is interesting to note that Anderson has reteamed with cinematographer Robert Elswit for “Inherent Vice.” The two worked together for all of Anderson’s films except “The Master,” yet the look they create in this is closer to that film than any of their past collaborations.

Fans of Anderson will most certainly be pleased with all of this, but the film interestingly has the guns to keep general audiences satisfied as well despite its plot difficulties. The part deadpan, part outrageous stoner comedy script is hilarious. Look for the film to gain cult status among the same group that holds films like “The Big Lebowski” so high. Because of this, it should serve as a confirmation of Anderson as one of the most versatile directors in the world today. Also, the environment is so rich and expertly crafted that is will likely compel both those who lived through it and those who did not.

The score, another product of the Anderson-Jonny Greenwood marriage now in its third film, is fun and an effective match to its on-screen material. It features everything from Neil Young’s “Harvest” to original work by Greenwood. Performances of the actors are as compelling as one would expect from such a talented cast, particularly Phoenix and Waterston (although Brolin just might be a show stealer of sorts).

Overall, complaints of a confusing plot feel weak in comparison to all that “Inherent Vice” has going for it. Cinematic history is riddled with confusing films that have nonetheless been deemed masterpieces. Take “2001: A Space Odyssey,” for example. Widely considered to be lofty among the greats, the film is also considered to be one of the more confusing films in history. If someone could explain the entire plot beginning to end without theorizing, they’d be the first. So the question then becomes, if deeply serious films can become revered without an entirely discernible plot, then why can’t comedies? Especially one as beautifully crafted and spellbinding as “Inherent Vice.” (Grade: A-)

"Her" is a Beautiful Exploration of Love and Technology

"Her," while unconventional in concept, is an incredibly intimate exploration of the modern human relationship.

It may sound like a bad joke to say that the most intimate sex scene of the cinematic year is between a man and his computer, but that is exactly the type of magic that Spike Jonze works in his new film, "Her."

The scene features nothing more than a black, existential screen and what you might imagine phone sex between a madly-in-love couple set apart by a great distance would sound like. Unfortunately for the lovers in this case, that distance can never be lessened.

Theodore Twombly (played by Joaquin Phoenix) is at a lonely crossroads in his life. His appearance is upbeat, consisting of high-waisted pants, brightly colored button downs, thick-rimmed glasses and a caterpillar mustache, yet there is sadness in his demeanor. For work, he writes beautiful, moving love letters for clients whose relationships he traces. Though his writing reveals his sweet soul, Theodore has little use for it in his own life. The nearing end of his marriage to a woman he grew up and "experienced everything with" has left him pessimistic about life. If he has already experienced everything with Catherine (Rooney Mara, who looks much better with eyebrows), he wonders, won't everything else from this point on be redundant? In reality, the relationship has been over for sometime. All that's left is the signing of the divorce papers; the validation of an end that Theodore is not yet ready to accept.

In a moment of spontaneity, Theodore purchases a new, highly advanced operation system. He assigns the system a female voice and soon enough she has given herself a name. "Samantha," (a revelatory Scarlett Johansson) is sweet, bright and witty, and strikes a nerve in Theodore. Though he remains stuck in the shadow of his past and is not interested in real women for anything more than bodily urges, Theodore's relationship with Samantha is as honest and free-flowing as it is confounding to him. She is constantly evolving and developing a deeper desire to want, feel and experience the world the way humans do, and he, a hopeless dreamer, is looking for new ways to view at the world. He finds just that in Samantha and the two soon find themselves so deeply taken with one another that they are able to make love through nothing more than their voices.

To tell much more of the plot would be to ruin Jonze's wonderfully unique love story. It is refreshing to see such an unconventional concept treated with the delicacy and skill it deserves. The script, also written by Jonze, is wholly original and often hilarious. It is peppered with social commentary on the impact of the new age of technology on human interaction in the not too distant future (the film maintains a healthy balance between sci-fi and actuality).

The film also effectively balances humor with pathos; there are many scenes that at one moment feel like something out of a lighter comedy, yet remain one shot away from major emotional revelation. One stand out features a surrogate body service for human-operating system relationships. After Samantha experiences some difficulties in her relationship with Theodore, she hires a young woman to act as her "body" while the two make love. At first funny, the scene quickly shifts to intensely awkward viewing when Theodore finds the experience too weird to go through with and then accidentally reveals reservations he has about the relationship.

Though the film briefly delves into metaphysical matters, they are largely used as metaphors for cycles of the modern relationship, Jonze's depiction of which is perhaps the most accurate and honest in a good long while; don't be surprised if any or many of the conversations between Theodore and Samantha heavily resemble ones you've had with a significant other. As a result, all of the joy and heartbreak are palpable.

If ever a voice were to be deserving of acting nominations, it would be Johansson's. The range she is able to cover merely through intonation is deeper than most actors' or actresses' on-screen range.

Phoenix, meanwhile, is as powerful as ever. Some have unfairly labeled him as a typecast flawed wanderer, but a comparison between this role and his previous in last year's "The Master" should serve as evidence against that. Freddie Quell is a flawed wanderer indeed, but he is a volatile, rude, often thoughtless damaged soul. In that role, it is Phoenix's intensity coupled with emotional range that brings the performance to into the realm of greatness. Theodore, on the other hand, is a thinking man. He is a skilled and poetic writer in addition to a polite and socially comfortable man; his flawed wandering is only a result of his ending marriage. The characters are similar on a very thin surface layer, but, in fact, are very different. Phoenix covers both flawlessly.

Amy Adams, who seemingly can do no wrong of late, has a small role as Theodore's longtime best friend and neighbor. Her screen time is brief, but she still remains impressive as a more subtly damaged counterpart to Theodore.

Also noteworthy in the film are the score, featuring songs by Arcade Fire (like Supersymmetry, which was written specifically for the film despite appearing on the band's most recent album), and the delicate cinematography by Hoyte van Hoytema, which effectively contributes to the ambiguous yet deeply felt mood of Theodore and Samantha's relationship.

At its core, "Her" is one of the most intimate and timely romances in many years. It asks many questions of its viewers, perhaps the broadest, yet most important of which is: what makes love? Considering how intimately crafted the chemistry between Theodore and Samantha is, it's hard to imagine that Jonze is far off from an answer. (Grade: A)

Reel Rant: Greatest Injustices of the Past Several Years of Academy Awards

It's that time of year again: awards season. Each ceremony brings different opinions and lots of surprises, some good and some bad. The season's culminating ceremony, however, is also its most predictable. That the Academy Awards are traditionally previewed with articles that split "what should win" and "what will win" into separate categories is telling of what is usually to come: they're going to get it wrong. For fans of experimental, art house and even independent cinema, there is very little to enjoy in watching the highest profile middlebrow film of the year hailed as the "best picture." In fact, anyone who enjoys cinema of controversial nature of any kind will likely be disappointed by the Oscars. While it is going to be difficult for the panel to ignore what I, in my humble opinion, believe to be the best picture of the year so far in director Steve McQueen's masterful "12 Years a Slave" (although it is still very early in the race with many contenders still to come), I've learned to expect nothing. In honor of the upcoming awards season, here are the greatest injustices of the Academy Awards of the past several years:

2012: 

Paul Thomas Anderson's "The Master" was largely
ignored by the Academy. (Photo by Jürgen Fauth)

The 85th Academy Awards Ceremony was undoubtedly one of the worst in recent memory; it would be easier to list what the panel actually got right. The biggest injustices came in the four major categories, however. Let me start with Best Picture. It was difficult to take this race seriously from the time the nominees were announced because the film I believe was and is the best of 2012, Paul Thomas Anderson's "The Master," was left out. The film is experimental to say the least and certainly has its detractors, but there is no one world making more compelling cinema at the moment than Anderson, and explosive, powerfully acted scenes like a jail room confrontation between Joaquin Phoenix's Freddie Quell and Philip Seymour Hoffman's Lancaster Dodd lift "The Master" above anything else in 2012. For me, Michael Haneke's heart-wrenching "Amour" is a close second, and as it was nominated for the award, I naturally felt it deserved the win. Instead, the award was given to the suspenseful but ultimately safe "Argo" by Ben Affleck.

Best Actor was equally as disappointing. Many consider Daniel Day-Lewis to be the greatest actor in the world today, something I believe to be true. His portrayal of Abraham Lincoln is transformative, but 2012 should have been the year of the return of Joaquin Phoenix. Credit to the Academy for nominating him in spite of a high profile interview in which he called the ceremony "bullshit," but a completely unbiased panel would have rightfully given him the award. His performance in "The Master" is the stuff of legends; it is very reminiscent of a young Marlon Brando, both in range and commitment. Day-Lewis's Abraham Lincoln is flawlessly executed, but Phoenix's Freddie Quell is far more compelling and the psychological commitment far deeper. Day-Lewis's win was expected by most, but not rightfully so.

Jennifer Lawrence is one of the most talented young actresses in the world today and it is damn near impossible not to love her persona, but to be perfectly frank, I would have been satisfied with any of her competitors winning Best Actress, just not her. This was a close race to be sure. Jessica Chastain's Maya was a revelation and the driving force of "Zero Dark Thirty," Emmanuel Riva's Anne effectively broke hearts and records in "Amour" (the oldest ever nominee for the award), Quvenzhane Wallis's Hushpuppy was powerful enough to deserve a win without the feel-good story bias involved in her age and even though Naomi Watts's role as Maria Bennett in tsunami tear-jerker "The Impossible" was brief, she handled the considerable physicality of the role with grace. Lawrence was the middlebrow choice of the pack, so of course, the panel handed her the award. In truth, while nothing was wrong with her performance as Tiffany, there was nothing truly captivating about it; all four of her competitors were, in one way or another, thoroughly compelling.

I'm not sure where the Academy was going with their choice in nominees for Best Director. No Paul Thomas Anderson? No Kathryn Bigelow? The race was not legitimate from the start, and like Best Picture, the deserving nominee, Haneke, was not awarded.

Just a notably bad year in a collection of bad years for the Oscars.

2011:

Michael Shannon's career-best performance in "Take Shelter"
was snubbed by the Academy. (Photo by Flickr user Nicogenin)

Another year in which the four major categories just flat out stunk. I have an unconventional pick for best film of the year, and I fully understand that many may not share this point of view, but the best thing I saw in 2011 was Jeff Nichol's "Take Shelter." Yes, it is a lower budget independent feature, but the output is all that should matter, and there was nothing else in 2011 quite like the psychological punch of "Take Shelter." Not to give it Best Picture is one thing, but no nomination? Good old Academy. Likewise, no nomination for Michael Shannon in the film's lead role was an atrocity. While I don't like the absence of the movie in the Best Picture line up, I expected it. This was unexpected and wrong. One would be hard-pressed to find a greater level of intensity in a performance than Shannon's.

As for those actually nominated, Terrence Malick's beautiful and ambiguous "The Tree of Life" deserved the win, and in history will be considered the cinematic achievement of 2011. Then there's "The Artist," perhaps the most middlebrow nominee of the past decade. There is nothing special about it (in fact, I find it to be flat out boring and grossly overrated). Even if you didn't watch the ceremony, you could have guessed which one the Academy would chose. "The Artist" also won Best Director (Michel Hazanavicius) and Best Actor (Jean Dujardin); it did not deserve either. 

Best Actress was the only category not plagued by an "Artist" nominee, yet the panel found a way to stink it up anyway. Kirsten Dunst gave the best performance of the year (as well as her career) as Justine in Lars von Trier's "Melancholia" (which was also wrongly ignored for Best Picture and/or Director), but of course, she was not nominated. In what was otherwise a somewhat barren year for actress nominees, I felt that Michelle Williams did enough as Marilyn Monroe in "My Week with Marilyn" to deserve the award. But the great Meryl Streep was also nominated. She's an all-time great, but her turn as Margaret Thatcher in "The Iron Lady" is not one of her best performances. In this case, she won the award not based on merit, but because of her reputation. 

2010: 

This year wasn't as bad as 2011 or 2012, but still the major awards were safe as can be. I see "127 Hours" as the best film of 2010 based on a virtuoso performance from James Franco and the fact that there has seldom been a film so inspiring in history. This is likely to be viewed as another unconventional pick in the eyes of many, but since when has "conventionality" been a defining quality of great cinema? Anyway, 2010's Best Picture winner, "The King's Speech," is solid, but not the best film of the year. If not "127 Hours," I would have liked to see Darren Aronofsky's "Black Swan" take home Best Picture and Best Director. "The King's Speech" got both. It also got Best Actor (Colin Firth). Let's be real: watch Franco cut his own arm off and then watch Firth simply stutter away for two hours and you tell me whose performance was more compelling.

2007:

Both "There Will Be Blood" and "No Country for Old Men" were shot in
Marfa, Texas at the same time. (Photo by Flickr user Movie Stars and Rockets)

I'm skipping 2008 and 2009 because there was nothing I felt strongly enough about to consider an injustice those years. 2007, however, is the home of, in my eyes, the biggest Academy Award injustice of the past several decades.  Paul Thomas Anderson's "There Will Be Blood" is the best film of the past 10 years. That is probably the most steadfast opinion I hold in contemporary cinema. "There Will Be Blood" features the greatest performance in the career of the greatest actor of this generation (Day-Lewis), an incredibly interesting and creatively adapted screenplay by Anderson, one of the most effective minimalist scores I've ever heard by Radio Head's Jonny Greenwood and countless other flawlessly executed cinematic intangibles. It is the reason Anderson is my favorite contemporary director.

2007 was a landmark year in cinema; it's not common that two all-time great films are released in the same year, but that is exactly what happened with Joel and Ethan Coen's "No Country for Old Men" and "There Will Be Blood" (interestingly enough, the two were shot within miles of one another in Marfa, Texas at the same time and smoke from the set of "There Will Be Blood" interfered with a day of shooting for the Coens). Both are great, but "There Will Be Blood" is greater. As a result, it should have taken both Best Picture and Best Director. "No Country" took both, however, and in any other year it would have been well-deserved. But not 2007.