Culture

I don’t know what possessed Joaquin Phoenix to take his weird break from acting/artistic endeavour but it’s great to have him back. His tortured performance as Freddie Quell, a sex-obsessed, alcoholic army vet returning to the real world in Paul Thomas Anderson’s The Master is the best of an extremely strong year for male performances. Phoenix has made his name playing characters laced with darkness, from Gladiator to Walk the Line (for which he should have won an Oscar). Once again, dare I say it, he should have beaten Daniel Day Lewis to the Best Actor gong.

The movie has received some flak for attacking Scientology, and it certainly explores the effects a new religion can have on those who have lost their way. However, The Master is much more than that. It is an outstanding study of the human condition, and the first scenes are so expertly constructed that you immediately understand who Freddie Quell is. Anderson invites you on a journey with Freddie as we unravel the darkness of humanity in the most eccentric manner. Phillip Seymour Hoffman is outstanding as “master,” the leader of a new-age religion, and Amy Adams as his wife gives another one of her gold standard performances. I don’t know where Adams rose from a few years ago but I have yet to see her in a poor role. The three leads are supplemented by a talented supporting cast, who give the nuanced performances that Anderson’s script sets up for them.

The movie is not for a casual night out, it can only be described as pure art. Nor is it something you would see with grandma, as Anderson is liberal with the use of nudity. There is no discernible plot but somehow it just doesn’t matter. Anderson has delivered again and if we allow ourselves to get caught up in the journey with that great cast we could all learn something about ourselves and about the power of personality.

4/5