Two things, before I get going: (1) Yes, I am aware that the title of this piece is wackily long-winded, and (2) If you’re worried about potential spoilers for The Master — which I certainly would be, too, if I hadn’t been given the generous opportunity to see it a month in advance by the Music Box Theater — you should feel wholly comfortable to continue reading along, because the goal of this article is exclusively to process things that are not related to the film’s plot, construction, story development, etc.
As you’ve surely heard by now, Paul Thomas Anderson lit a cinephile spark earlier this month by unveiling his There Will Be Blood follow-up to an unsuspecting Santa Monica audience, and he pulled a similar, albeit somewhat less secretive, stunt this week by bringing the film, in 70mm glory, to Chicago. I was fortunate enough to be in front of my MacBook when tickets went on sale Wednesday evening, and wasn’t surprised in the slightest upon learning that they sold out completely within a matter of two hours.
Unsurprisingly, too, was the fact that what transpired Thursday evening — to be a stickler, it did stretch into early Friday morning; the screening started roughly 20 minutes after the scheduled 10 PM kick-off — was more than a mere screening for a soon-to-be-released film. It was a rich moviegoing experience, from the time I arrived, 90 minutes early, to the time I left, when the fevered crowd — which included people like Michael Phillips and Ignatiy Vishnevetsky — was every bit as palpable as it was during the pre-screening wait, during which dozens of passers-by begged for last-minute tickets.
The word immediately out of the screening — and, as I gather, this was also the reaction in Santa Monica — was that The Master was remarkably difficult to process. Indeed, most people who tweeted an instant reaction did so mainly express their befuddlement, and a good number of attendees went so far as to not even attempt to put together a coherent reaction to the film. As Jeffrey Wells pointed out on Friday, the aforementioned Vishnevetsky, whom I consider to be one of the smartest critics out there, settled for a simple joke about the film’s attention-grabbing costuming. (It’s ironic, meanwhile, that the wardrobe was the aspect singled-out by Vishenvetsky, because he himself showed up to the event sporting a hilariously out-of-context American Airlines vest.)
To be perfectly honest about it, I made the decision beforehand that I was going to be reviewing The Master fairly soon after seeing it. And that’s how it turned out. I put together a tweet review only minutes after coming out of the film, arrived home, went to sleep, and then woke up about six or seven hours later to get to work. The review I ended up writing — which I like, if that counts for anything — went up Friday afternoon, both here and over at The Film Stage.
Much of what I read afterwards carried an intense negativity. (The Film Stage’s audience is a good deal more expansive than that of this site, so most of the direct comments I received regarding my review can be found over there.) One person criticized my use of the word “pungent.” Another seemed to imply that my (admittedly confused) admiration for the film stemmed from a “hero worship of PT Anderson.” And a third commenter expressed a distaste for the fact that my review didn’t discuss the specifics of the film’s relationship to Scientology, and was therefore “futile” in helping him or her make a decision as to whether the film was worth “[plunking] down $9 bucks to sit through.” (I’ll say this one in plain English: It’s worth $9.)
I responded to all of these remarks with varying degrees of encroachment. It’s tough, writing a review this soon, because the people you’d ideally like to engage in a conversation with on the film’s qualities haven’t seen the film, so what you instead get is a lot of people searching the web for ways to spread negativity. To quote one final customer, from Charlie Schmidlin’s The Playlist review, “The film nearly defies an immediate review. And Anderson spent nearly 5 years on it. Yet here you are, trying pathetically to beat others to the punch instead instead of giving the film even 24 hours to settle. Shame.”
It’s this last assertion — more than the critiques of my diction, or the accusations of blind auteur worship — that bothers me most, and it’s something I heard dutifully replicated in several other spaces. It bothers me because the week-of-release reviews that are published on a constant basis both online and in print are almost always created on a first-viewing platform. And, like these reviews, my review of The Master — and, I’m sure, a strong number of other early-word reactions — isn’t pretending to be an all-knowing presider over this film. Theatrical reviews are the last thing from the final word on a given film, and yet the most common slashing on people’s tongues lately is that they don’t want to so much as type one word about The Master until they’ve seen it six times, downloaded the Jonny Greenwood score, read through Paul Thomas Anderson’s original screenplay, and analyzed every inch of every frame.
Make no mistake, there is a place for writing like that — but that place is called “a few years down the line.” By representing my immediate reaction to The Master, I don’t think I’ve done a disservice to the work. I’ve simply taken a snapshot of my relationship to the film at the time I was driving home from the Music Box.
As bloggers and critics will tell you time and time again when they compile their best-of-the-year lists — or, more pertinently, lists like the Sight & Sound’s Greatest Films of All Time poll — opinions are fluid and ever-changing, and the realization that The Master is perhaps Anderson’s “most cryptic” film to date only enhances that notion. It needs time, merits consideration, demands scrupulous attention — but it’s not descended from the heavens, immune to the practice of first-sight reviewing. It makes it difficult, sure, but it doesn’t erase the rewards of the process.
I hope that you’ll have some thoughts to share on this topic, and encourage you to do so. Fire away.
on August 18, 2012 at 3:20 am
“Theatrical reviews are the last thing from the final word on a given film, and yet the most common slashing on people’s tongues lately is that they don’t want to so much as type one word about The Master until they’ve seen it six times, downloaded the Jonny Greenwood score, read through Paul Thomas Anderson’s original screenplay, and analyzed every inch of every frame.”
Nonsense. You must also memorize the screenplay, recite it backwards and forwards, and copy Greenwood’s score on staff paper. Then you might be worthy of reviewing “The Master”
I kid, but I agree that there’s a time and a place for both immediate reactions and years-later reflections. Film is an art form that is always changing, always growing. As such, it’s must be analyzed on more than just one level. True appreciation of film comes from both reflecting on past works and observing current works, accounting for both immediate responses and the reflections you have in the future.
on August 18, 2012 at 3:34 am
Donovan: Well put. And one of the most interesting debates I’m always having with myself is trying to decide whether I find more enjoyment out of the “immediate reactions” or the “years-later reflections.” It’s obvious which one has more academic and cinematic value — the latter! — but the overriding impression I get from the online film world is that the majority of people are itching to discuss the movies that are entering our orbit right now, because they’re new and unknown, and ripe for public processing. And if that’s where most of the discussion is at, then it’s also, more often than not, where a lot of the fun is at, too.
(This isn’t, of course, meant to suggest that there’s a nagging shortage of opportunities to converse about older films online. But it doesn’t take much effort to see that the bulk of our Twitter feeds is occupied by the here and now.)
on August 18, 2012 at 3:36 am
Great piece here. For what it’s worth, I thought your review was quite good, especially considering most people have a month to go.
With regards to reviewing upon one viewing, I absolutely agree with you. When you review a film for a large audience, you’re essentially telling them what they’re going to get when they go into the theater to see that film. The average attendant will not want to be told that “it’s great, but see it three or four times.” The average person will to see the movie once. The best way to offer your thoughts on what one can expect upon going to see the movie once? Watch it once, and then review it.
I think a large part of the backlash towards reviewing is the fact that this is Paul Thomas Anderson. PTA is a great director–perhaps the best in our country in this century–but that does not make him an exception to the rule (it does, however, mean that a few years down the line, critical analyses are welcome, and calling the film “difficult” or “cryptic” in a review is totally fair). But as a great director, he attracts a cult of rabid fans who insist that everything he has done is a masterpiece, possibly before they see it. I’m willing to bet that a lot of the people who are saying you absolutely must wait before reviewing it are of that camp, who can’t take anything less than hearing why every bit of every frame and every sound is so perfect. Not most, but a lot. The others are, quite understandably, taking time to process it. If you could process it quickly enough to write a good review overnight, more power to you. That’s why you’re a critic.
Anyone with that kind of fanbase is also going to attract a crowd of haters. That’s why you were accused of PTA worship.
on August 18, 2012 at 4:03 am
Forrest: Thanks for your extended thoughts. Perhaps a lot of this does have more to do with Anderson’s aura than I’m realizing — after all, There Will Be Blood is the only other film of his that I’ve experienced in conjunction with a theatrical release, so there’s a subjective newness in that sense, for me.
Obviously, I think I have a good sense of the textures of Anderson’s reputation, both commercially and critically, but it’s still a separate thing to witness it up close and fully realize the magnitude of it. In that way, I suppose some of this early backlash even mirrors the recent popular response to reviews of The Dark Knight Rises, with Christopher Nolan devotees attacking the TDKR-is-not-a-masterpiece reviewers left and right.
But when it comes down to it, many of these conversations can be boiled down to individual inclination. Most of my writing here consists of theatrical reviews, so I was naturally primed to watch The Master with that mindset. But there were surely countless other viewers at the Music Box with different agendas in mind, and it’s perfectly fine if they want to take time and let the film sit. I simply resist the doctrine that claims all of-the-moment Master reviews to be without purpose.
(By the way, I love how clearly and concisely you nail the basic thesis of the piece here: “The best way to offer your thoughts on what one can expect upon going to see the movie once? Watch it once, and then review it.”)