Magnólia

`Magnolia' seems to divide audiences as much as it bewilders them. Some there are who see it as a brilliant exercise in creative, thought-provoking moviemaking, a film that challenges the notion that modern American cinema is comprised exclusively of formulaic retreads of earlier films or slick, mechanical displays of technical virtuosity, devoid of meaning and feeling. Others view `Magnolia' as the nom plus ultra of pretentiousness and self-satisfied smugness. Which of the two assessments is the correct one – or does the truth lie somewhere in between?

Actually, there is much to admire and cherish in `Magnolia.' Writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson has done a commendable job in putting on the screen a relatively unique vision – a qualification I feel forced to make because it does seem patently derived from much of the trailblazing work of director Robert Altman. Like Altman, Anderson creates a vast canvas of barely-related and briefly overlapping storylines and characters that come together under the umbrella of a single major theme and a few minor ones as well. Anderson's concern is to explore the concept of forgiveness and to examine the part it plays in the redemption we all seek through the course of our lifetimes. In this film, dying characters struggle to make amends with the loved ones they will soon leave behind, while estranged characters grope tentatively to establish or re-establish the bonds that must link them to other members of the human race. Anderson presents a tremendously wide range of characters, though for a film set in the northern areas of Los Angeles, `Magnolia' provides a surprisingly non-diverse sea of Caucasian faces. However, in terms of the ages of the characters, Anderson's crew seems more comprehensive, running the gamut from a pre-teen wiz kid to a terminally ill man in his mid-60's. Many of these characters seem to have created any number of facades to help them cope with the miseries and disappointments of life – and much of the redemption occurs only after those masks are stripped away revealing the emptiness and hurt that, in many cases, lurks so close to the surface.

Thematically, then, Anderson's film is a compelling one. Dramatically, however, it suffers from some serious flaws. Many viewers and critics have called `Magnolia' an artistic advancement, in both depth and scope, for Anderson, whose previous film was the similarly dense, moderately freeform `Boogie Nights.' I tend to disagree. If anything, `Boogie Nights,' by limiting itself to a much more narrowly restricted milieu – the 1970's porn industry – and focusing intently on a single main character, managed to connect more directly with the emotions of the audience. `Magnolia,' by being more expansive, paradoxically, seems more contracted. The pacing is often languid and the screenplay, running a bit over three hours, often seems bloated given the single-mindedness of its basic theme. Certainly, a few of these characters and storylines could have been dispensed with at no great cost to the film as a whole. By lining up all his characters to fit into the same general theme, the author allows his message to become a bit heavy-handed and over-emphatic. Anderson seems to want to capture the whole range of human experience on his enormous (and enormously long) movie canvas, yet because the characters seem to all be tending in the same direction - and despite the fact that the details of their experiences are different - the net effect is thematically claustrophobic.

The controversial ending, in which an event of literally biblical proportions occurs, feels generally right in the context of this film, though with some reservations. It seems perfectly in tune with the quality of heightened realism that Anderson establishes and sustains throughout the picture. On the other hand, the ending does pinpoint one of the failures of the film as a whole. Given that the screenplay has a strong Judeo-Christian subtext running all the way through it, one wonders why Anderson felt obliged to approach the religious issues in such strictly oblique terms. None of the characters – not even those who are dying – seem to turn to God for their forgiveness and redemption. In fact, one wonders what purpose that quirky ending serves since the characters are well on their way to making amends by the time it happens.

Anderson has marshaled an array of first-rate performances from a talented, well-known cast. Tom Cruise provides a wrenching case study of a shallow, charismatic shyster, who has parleyed his misogyny into a lucrative self-help industry. Yet, like many of the characters, he uses this façade as a shield to hide the hurt caused by a father who abandoned him and a mother whose slow, painful death he was forced to witness alone. The other actors, too numerous to mention, turn in equally worthy performances. Particularly interesting is the young boy who, in counterpoint to one of the other characters in the story, manages to save himself at an early age from the crippling effect of identity usurpation that it has taken so many others in this film a lifetime to overcome.

In many ways, `Magnolia' is the kind of film that could easily serve as the basis for a lengthy doctoral dissertation for a student majoring in either filmmaking or sociology. The density of its vision would surely yield up many riches of character, symbolism and theme that a first time viewer of the film would undoubtedly miss. Thus, in many ways, `Magnolia' is that rare film that seems to demand repeat exposure even for those audience members who may not `get it' the first time. As a viewing experience, `Magnolia' often seems rambling and purposeless, but it does manage to get under one's skin, and, unlike so many other, less ambitious works, this one grows in retrospect.

Paul Thomas Anderson; when filmophiles say the name, it is uttered with such reverence that the man may very well be canonized the contemporary patron saint of film. Offering a comparatively limited array of millennium masterpieces, PTA as he is lovingly sometimes referred to, perfectly balances his films' complex intellectual tapestry with a strong emotional core. The man is an admitted film-freak, listing influences as varied as Martin Scorsese, Stanley Kubrick and Max Ophuls. Pare enough layers and you can see how PTA apes certain images from these infamous auteurs. Yet his themes are wholly their own, mixing loneliness, isolation, family dysfunction and in the case of Magnolia, cosmic coincidence as a means to his cinematic end.

Magnolia follows an ensemble of interrelated and fatally flawed protagonists over a three day period. All are somehow connected to the L.A. based Partridge Productions owned by the elderly Earl Partridge (Robards). Earl is dying of cancer and asks his nurse (Hoffman) to contact his long-ignored son Frank (Cruise) who now makes his living as a professional pick-up artist. Meanwhile Partridge Production staple, the quiz show What Do Kids Know? is airing live with host Jimmy Gator (Baker Hall) who is also dying of cancer. Gator struggles to repair his relationship with his daughter Claudia (Walters) who has developed a cocaine habit and lives in relative anonymity. Meanwhile one of the show's contestants, Stanley (Blackman) is waffling under the pressure of his domineering father. The film is also book-ended by narration provided by stage magician Ricky Jay who offers further tales of the Ripley's Believe it or Not variety.

I am truly at a loss of what to think about Magnolia. It's a messy, dense and demanding movie that grabs your attention through the power of sheer pathos. The common thread of resentment towards fatherly bonds certainly begs the question and offers theories about what Magnolia is about. Yet any interpretation on PTA's singular vision falls short; torn asunder by complex editing, parabolic storytelling and characters histrionics. The film is big, the film is ambitious, the film (at over three hours) can feel punishing. And in the end resolutions are left frustratingly obscured amid the chaos. Many audience members will likely feel jipped though I remind you, life itself often makes no sense; why should we presume to find intellectual cogency in our art.

As we bounce energetically from one story to another, the audience is never feels lost in time, rather the film condenses and expands time in playful and interesting ways. For example: the quiz show for all its cerebral quality, is used as a stapling plot-point for most of the film's threads. Presumably the show takes place over half an hour, yet within that time, more than an hour of the film is un-spooled.

Magnolia is unequivocally a minor masterpiece of world building. The film reaches its emotional apex twice; within the first 20 minutes and within the last 20. Characters fiercely clash with one another like starved rats in a cage, helped in some cases by the presence of drugs, alcohol and in Tom Cruise's case alpha-male braggadocio. After a time, the characters settle into a routine awaiting the next existential crisis that gives them grief and the audience indigestion. Tension builds and builds as heroes and villains face off. And just when you think you can't take anymore, the film rewards with a plot-point so out of left field that you'd swear the Old Testament God was smiling on Magnolia's L.A. denizens.

I don't know what to think about Magnolia, but I know what I feel and I'm certain the feelings evoked by this film are purposeful and prove PTA to be a masterful storyteller. The film makes its audience run the gambit of emotional resonance, elevating its broad-stroke temperament with near operatic persistence. The camera, with its near omnipotence forces us to ask questions about the story and more importantly about ourselves. How do we control or alter our reality? When should we forgive? What problems left dormant in the past effect our lives in the present? We may not be provided with clear-cut answers but at least after watching Magnolia you may be pushed to wise up.

The music; the way the camera moves; the performances: this amazing ensemble piece takes everything to the next level. Although the influence of Robert Altman and Martin Scorsese can be felt throughout the whole film, P.T. Anderson doesn't copy them but merely uses some of their trademark techniques to create his very own, unique brand of film.

There are so many creative ideas and standout scenes in this film: I'm sure that, similarly to how filmmakers of Anderson's generation are citing films like 'Nashville' or 'Goodfellas' as their inspiration, the next generation of aspiring directors will be citing 'Magnolia'. The film is not "just" a masterpiece, but also hugely influential and an instant classic. 10 stars out of 10.

Favorite films: IMDb.com/list/mkjOKvqlSBs/

Lesser-Known Masterpieces: imdb.com/list/ls070242495/

A rich slice of modern life presented wonderfully by Paul Thomas Anderson. Nine or so "broken" people are followed through the film, each of them at least vaguely interconnected to the others. We are shown where they are currently at in life, and find out what has happened to have brought them there. By the end of the film, they are finally at a point where they can confront what is making them so unhappy and perhaps take control of their lives and look forward to a brighter future (even if their time is limited).

Some people have complained about the ending of the film, perhaps hoping for everything to be neatly tied up, or at least for something less absurd than we get. In my opinion, however, it is perfectly apt for things to end as they do. We dip into these characters' lives in the present, learn about their past, and leave with optimism for their future. I would have found a cinematic "group hug" to be overly sentimental and highly unnecessary. For that alone, the director must be applauded for exercising some restraint. It would have been far too easy to extend the story a bit further and portray the characters as now being "mended", but this is not how real life is and would not have rung true with the film's overall tone of "this is just something that happens".

The sheer ambition of the director is also welcomed. It looks like pre-millennial tension sparked off a mini-renaissance in Hollywood, with this film and others such as "Fight Club" and "American Beauty" harking back to the period in the 70s when there was no distinction between "mainstream" and "arthouse". A-list actors and directors were not afraid to take a few risks and box-office gross was not the only factor used to denote a film's success or failure. It remains to be seen whether the current revival is just a blip. Let's hope not.

As for Mr. Cruise, although this may be his best performance to date, at times he looked a bit out of his depth. At the bedside scene, for example, the clenched fist, intense gaze and facial grimace instantly shattered my suspension of disbelief. This trademark Cruise gesture (as much so as Bruce Willis' smirk) crossed the line between character and actor, turning "Frank TJ Mackey" back into "Tom Cruise - Movie Star". For most of the film his performance was convincing, but when the role required some real emotion or loss of control, his limited acting range was exposed. I don't think he'll ever be able to achieve the credibility he'd like, but a good start would be to take on more such challenging roles, with the proviso that they are not obvious vanity projects or oscar-vehicles.

To sum up, I found this film warm and sincere, not pretentious as some have suggested. As for the frogs? Well, don't strain yourself looking for some deep, hidden metaphor, just take it at face value and enjoy the pure spectacle that you get from the sheer number and size of the frogs. It's a visually stunning sequence, up there with other truly classic moments in cinema.

From reading some of the comments presented here, it seems a shame that many people can't get past the swearing, drugs, running time or "arthouse cinema" tag. To really enjoy this film, you probably need to watch it without any such prejudices, and to leave your cynicism at the door. Don't be afraid of not "getting it", take it as you find it. Just sit back, let it envelop you and you'll be rewarded.

Judging from the comments archive, I can see why this film polarizes its audiences as much as it does. This film defies convention in all possible senses--characterization, dialogue, narrative structure, heck, even the introduction. To be honest, this movie is truly strange. But that doesn't necessarily make it bad. Quite the contrary, actually. In my opinion this is one of the best movies I've seen. The acting was superb, and the performance I got from Tom Cruise was surprising to say the least. I don't expect much from him other than crocodile tears and beaming that thick smile, but here he credibly displayed a wide range of emotions. The photography was excellent, the pacing was quick (despite the 3:15 runtime!), and the structure! the best thing about it. Although the movie does dwell on a very central theme--the price and necessity of salvation--much of the movie is left undone, as raw material for thinking about later, as if the characters just keep on living. As I said, it's not your standard movie fare. But don't dismiss it for what lies most visably on the surface; instead, sit through the movie, soak it in, and when it's done, turn out the lights and think about it for a while. You'll be glad you did.