4.5/5 Popcorns

Simultaneously bewildering and transfixing, “The Master” looks and feels like a modern American classic. And thanks to out-of-this-world performances from the leads, it almost gets there.

Writer and director Paul Thomas Anderson’s latest conceptual journey delves into the meaning of cult, explored through the relationship between Philip Seymour Hoffman’s so-called master and Joaquin Phoenix’s unhinged disciple. The slowly paced drama weaves one richly textured scene after another, and Anderson’s rare usage of 70-milimeter film gives each shot the deep, vivid feeling of an oil painting.

Phenomenal acting carries the film, with both stars truly at the top of their game. Phoenix channels his inner animal as tormented, impulsive World War II veteran Freddie Quell. Hoffman embodies dynamic cult leader Lancaster Dodd with layered charisma and a classical Hollywood drawl — an eloquent and seemingly enlightened mentor who cracks into seething bursts of rage when his ideology is questioned.

The cinematography is dazzling, the script is brilliant, the acting beyond sensational, but Anderson’s mystifying character study isn’t for everyone. The film is more about an abstract perception of cult than the story itself, and the characters are such extreme personalities that they’re difficult to identify with.

The message is maddeningly ambiguous and, after a wistfully anticlimactic ending, “The Master” leaves a feeling of uneasy confusion as viewers try to process exactly what they just saw.

The plot follows Quell, a disturbed, sex-addled ex-soldier roaming from job to job. He shoots family portraits in a department store until picking a fight with a client. He works farmland with immigrants until his toxic moonshine poisons an old man and he’s literally chased away. Quell floats from one place to the next, brewing moonshine from whatever ingredients are lying around — missile fluid, photo chemicals or paint thinner — until stumbling drunk onto a yacht in 1950 and happening across The Cause.

Based loosely on L. Ron Hubbard and the origins of scientology — though they can’t say that for legal reasons — The Cause is Dodd’s brainchild, dedicated to returning humans to their “inherent state of perfect.” It relies on “processing,” a hypnotic psychoanalysis of sorts, designed to unlock repressed trauma. It supposedly allows members to access past lives and time travel, and Dodd alleges it can also cure cancer and bring about world peace. It’s cult logic at its finest.

Dodd proclaims Quell his “guinea pig and protege,” resolving to help him “walk the proper path.” The core is revealed in the intense scenes between Quell and Dodd — the master’s struggle to tame his wayward apprentice who is so deeply broken that he doesn’t know how to live with himself.

Hoffman’s “master” is a self-proclaimed writer, doctor, nuclear physicist and theoretical philosopher, but above all, he’s just “a hopelessly inquisitive man.” Hoffman exudes Dodd’s thinly-veiled confidence with a wise, calming demeanor and wispy mustache, while underneath he’s really just “making it up as he goes along.” Amy Adams gives a quietly riveting performance as Dodd’s wife, Peggy, all quiet intensity and tactful comments as she discreetly pulls Dodd’s strings.

Phoenix’s performance is a haunting portrayal of self-destructive impulsivity. He wanders in and out of The Cause with a slight hunch and half grin, drunkenly searching for another girl, another fight or whatever might capture his attention. Phoenix’s mumbled speech, delirious laugh and penchant for lashing out personify a troubled soul.

The film’s only fault is a disappointing final act. After two hours of meticulous storytelling and painstaking character development, there’s one scene where the film takes a turn. Quell and Dodd are in the middle of a dusty, wide-open plain — the cinematography giving the moment an epic feel — yet where it should take the next step to greatness, the scene is simply puzzling. The last half hour veers off in a perplexing direction, taking all the wind out of the building narrative.

“The Master” stays in your mind for hours, even days after watching. Its exploration of obsession and cult is brought to life by a master filmmaker, and Phoenix and Hoffman give performances of a lifetime.

Absorbing, perplexing and impossible to fully understand, it’s a film destined to be debated forever.

Published on September 27, 2012 at 2:57 am

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