12 November, 2012

The Master and Margaritas

I got out of The Master and I really don't know what I think. Not yet. The one thing I am sure of is that it was a good idea not to bring a flask to that picture. That would have been. . . well, it would have been a different theatrical experience, I'll put it like that. Now 13 Assassins, there's a movie you can take a flask to.

Actually, I am sure about one more thing which is that it is good to have Joaquin Phoenix back.

It's hard for me to put a description to what it is he's doing in this movie (and I kind of don't want to right now). What is the most striking about it, though, is how he literally looks like a man that has been broken up. The way he carries himself and moves around and holds his arms akimbo like he's going to spill all over the place. One role that it reminds me of is Klaus Kinski in Aguirre: The Wrath of God. In both cases the men seem to have been picked up after a bad accident and lashed together just enough so that they can walk around.

Thinking about it now, I realize that the Lacon acolytes in the crowd would have a field day with this picture. Between the addiction and (possibly) Oedipal relationships and the preponderance of boobs I think this film has in it the very power to keep an entire classroom of graduate students going.I don't say that as a dig, it just seems obvious to me that there is some sort of psychological angle to this, especially when you consider that Scientology-- er, the Cause-- is rooted in a sort of anti-psychiatric stance. It's just too tempting of a target.

Part of me is also afraid that I'll reveal myself to be an idiot if I don't like it or if I don't get it. I know that I liked There Will Be Blood and even loved that film and it has much of the same DNA as The Master.

I'm just going to go lie down for a bit. That seems like the wisest course of action.