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Magnolia
My common refrain during this holiday movie season has been, "That was too long." While it's certainly more common for the big Oscar films to stretch over two hours, I can't remember a time when so many movies have approached or even crossed the three-hour barrier, and to little purpose. Stretches of narrative have inexplicably gone on twice as long as necessary (Green Mile, End of the Affair), extraneous characters have been introduced for little reason (Any Given Sunday, Ride With the Devil) and directors in love with their cinematic images have dawdled over gratuitous shots (Snow Falling on Cedars). But then there's Magnolia, a three-hour epic that fully justifies every minute. Set in the valleys outside Los Angeles, Magnolia examines the lives of almost a dozen people over the course of one day. But this being a movie, it's not just any day. As the movie cleverly reminds us at the beginning, sometimes strange things happen, sometimes coincidences occur. Some people will fall in love, some people will separate and some people will die. In a time when movie publicity demands that there be one focal character, one star, Magnolia treats all of its main characters democratically, as if each were just as significant as any other. So while Tom Cruise's character, Frank Mackey, may hog the commercial and publicity time, he's just another figure battling his family demons. There's also Linda Partridge (Julianne Moore, End of the Affair), a woman struggling to take care of her older, dying husband Earl (Jason Robards). There's Phil Parma (Philip Seymour Hoffman, Happiness), the in-home nurse assigned to take care of Earl and who tries to reunite an estranged father and son. Officer Jim Kurring (John C. Reilly, For Love of the Game) is a naive but well-meaning cop who falls in love with Claudia (Melora Walters), a junkie who has father issues of her own. Stanley Spector (Jeremy Blackman) is a child genius who becomes famous on a long-running quiz show hosted by Jimmy Gator (Philip Baker Hall, The Insider), who's just found out he has cancer. And finally there's Donnie Smith (William H. Macy, Fargo), a former quiz-show wiz kid who's down on his luck. If it sounds like there are a lot of parallels in the film, well there are. Besides the obvious pairs of quiz-show contestants, dying men, and children estranged from their fathers, we have two women with drug dependencies and two very different children trying to do the right thing. The most impressive thing about Magnolia (besides the superlative acting) is that it moves between all of these stories and characters with ease; every character is fleshed out and no plot line gets lost in all of the stories. But back to the acting, which is outstanding from top to bottom. Julianne Moore continues her amazing year with another sterling performance. The same goes for Philip Seymour Hoffman, who along with his great role in Talented Mr. Ripley, is my choice for Best Supporting Actor. Jason Robards does his usual great job, as do Philip Baker Hall and William H. Macy. And Tom Cruise tones down his acting tics for a surprisingly strong and affecting portrayal. All of the performances are helped immeasurably by writer and director Paul Thomas Anderson's script. The dialogue always rings true. When Earl Partridge laments "Life isn't short, it's too long," it resounds with a power that raises it above a common aphorism. And unlike Robert Altman's films, to which Magnolia clearly refers, Anderson's movie has the energy and drive of a horse race. Instead of the languid pace of Nashville or Short Cuts, Magnolia uses quick editing (few scenes last more than a minute) and propelling music (particularly in songs by Aimee Mann) to create a very affective tension that builds before the stunning climax. My friend Garth and I had a running argument about Anderson's last film, Boogie Nights. While Garth felt the last half-hour was another example of Hollywood's moralizing tendencies, I argued that the entire film could be read as a religious piece, with its emphasis on the themes of sin, punishment and redemption. After watching Magnolia, with those same themes in place and one of the strangest (but effective) Biblical references in recent memory, that seems even clearer. Each character in Magnolia is looking for some sort of salvation, some way of redeeming what's been lost. While not all succeed, their journeys and struggles make for a powerful story. As Officer Kurring says at the conclusion of the movie, "Sometimes people need to be forgiven, and sometimes they need to go to jail." J. Robert Parks 1/8/2000
Is it true that Paul Thomas Anderson's new film Magnolia is too ambitious? Yes, there are a few too many plots going on at once. Is it true that it's a very very long movie? Oh, yes. And are the critics right who said the cast over-acts and seem to compete with each other for Oscar attention? Definitely. But is it worth seeing? Absolutely. In fact, in spite of its artistic flaws, Magnolia stands a good chance of being 1999's most memorable film. (And that's saying something. I can't think of a year that's offered more original or memorable films.) Anderson (who has started using the name "P.T. Anderson") is a very young director--29 years old--but his instincts make his work comparable to the most ambitious films of Martin Scorcese and Robert Altman... even Orson Welles. After his first feature Hard Eight went by with little fanfare, his second film won him the attention of filmmakers and audiences worldwide. Boogie Nights was a brutally explicit exploration of the world of pornography, and the lonely, broken people in the center of its decadence. While its story lacked the resonance of Magnolia, Anderson found among the debauchery a compassionate tale about people trying to meet their needs of family and love in the middle of a dehumanizing industry. Anderson deserved the kudos for the accomplished styling of the picture. It was clear he was bound for great things. Magnolia is definitely another step upward. It tells the stories of many many characters struggling to cope with their variously fractured families. A TV producer lies dying, his memory beginning to fail, crying out to see his lost son. A cable-TV celebrity who gives seminars on seducing women is challenged by an insightful television journalist, and the ghosts of his past grow restless under his carefully built facade. A former quiz-kid champion struggles with the uselessness of his knowledge, and the emptiness of his lonely life. And an up-and-coming quiz kid champion wrestles with fame in a different way, trying to break free of his controlling father. To mention all of the stories here would take up far too much time. (Viewers should be cautioned: Some of these characters have become monstrous, and Anderson portrays them unflinchingly in all of their foul-mouthed, violent, and abusive behaviors. This film is not for children.) Suffice to say that these characters will stick in your mind. And the truths that bring them from action to consequences are as basic and relevant as the principles at work in Jesus' parables. Call this movie P. T. Anderson's Book of Parables. The Parable of the Lonely Policeman Who Tries to Make the World a Better Place... of the Woman Who Married For Money... of the Drug Addict Given a Chance at True Love... of the Thief Who Thought He Could Get Away. Now, throw in a dash of the Old Testament (namely, the book of Exodus.) While this is a big fat knot of stories, its themes are quite clear. Magnolia is about how our choices, good or bad, stay with us our entire lives, and we can't escape them. We are all incurably diseased by our mistakes. Fortunately, Magnolia is also about the existence of God; His justice in all of its frightening fairness; the warnings He graciously sends our way when we're headed for self-destruction; and His ability to give grace and forgive in spite of what we deserve. These characters' experiences echo each other, which some critics considered annoyingly redundant. I found the "redundancy" to be an effective way of emphasizing how all human beings face similar tests, struggle with similar questions, face the consequences of similar mistakes, and receive similar opportunities to accept God's gifts. In dealing with these themes, Anderson follows in the footsteps of master filmmaker (and my favorite director) Krystov Kieslowski, whose work is constantly preoccupied with the interconnectedness of our lives. As Kieslowski did in Red, Anderson shows the consequences of sin visited upon people late in their lives even as much younger people are beginning to make the same (and sometimes EXACTLY the same) mistakes. Yes, critical complaints against the film are justified. Magnolia suffers from bland dialogue and sketchily-drawn characters. Anderson's script sets up characters in Big Crisis for Big Speeches about morality and guilt. There are definitely moments when the film stops to preach to the audience. But I think Flannery O'Connor's philosophy-- that a desensitized culture sometimes need exaggerated, loud storytelling to reawaken it -- is the operating principle here. At times it's as though he knows the primary storyteller's rule "Show, Don't Tell," but his youthful enthusiasm has him dancing up and down to tell you what it all means. It's not the finest art, but it does pack a punch, especially in its consideration of the universality of suffering and need. Anderson isn't the first preacher to speak to the masses in starkly drawn parables, hoping that those with eyes to see will see. The film has a beautiful, fluid, Scorcese-like style, and its far-reaching ambition reminds me of Robert Altman's Short Cuts. The performances are engaging, although sometimes exaggerated. (While this is Tom Cruise's most wretched and evil character, it's certainly his bravest performance. His work this year has cured me of my Cruise-phobia.) Also worthy of special mention are Julianne Moore, Jason Robards, John C. Reily, and the consistently surprising Philip Seymour Hoffman. I was also surprised to find God to be an active character in the film. He is portrayed beautifully in the ways he lures people into dealing with the crimes of their past, the way he intervenes, sometimes with his unmistakable signature... miracles. (If you pursue some of the film's riddles, you just might spot an angel or a prophet existing right alongside the main characters.) There's even a scripture reference that pops up, like the guy at the baseball games with the John 3:16 poster. Not a bad idea. Isn't it better if audience members (or congregations) go to the Bible out of curiosity than because they've been pressured to do so? Stylistically, Anderson makes bold choices, including some experimental uses of the soundtrack by the long-overlooked songwriter Aimee Mann. In one scene, a song plays on as we revisit each character at their state of crisis. Each character sings along with the song. It's almost comical and risks being ludicrous. But it's brave, and I think it was somewhat effective. It may be another admission by the director that, yeah, this isn't realism... it's just a play. It's supposed to make you think. And that's not the film's boldest move. The last half-hour of the film comprises the single biggest risk taken by any director this year, and whether or not you think it works, you won't soon forget it. If given a choice between
a film by a passionate amateur and a film by a renowned professional, I'll
take the passionate one. Anderson's whole heart is in this picture, and
that's a lot more than can be said of Scorcese's '99 release, which had
all the ingredients for a great work but left me feeling strangely empty
and asking "So what?" There are other promising new directors who
seem bound for greatness--Neil LaBute, David O. Russell, Todd Solondz,
and Spike Jonze, to name a few. Like Anderson, they unapologetically
portray the beauty AND the ugliness in the world. But Anderson shows us
more hope than the rest of them, so far. His concern is the
Even if Anderson never improves his writing or his characterizations, he knows what the problem is, he knows where to find answers, and he gives the big screen the kind of storytelling it needs most. His career will be exciting to watch. ("Magnolia" is rated R for harsh and obscene language, violence, sexuality and brief nudity.) Jeffrey Overstreet 1/11/2000
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