Review of Magnolia (1999) by Maxwell B — 08 May 2015

One reason I adore Paul Thomas Anderson so much as a filmmaker is that each of his films is a completely different behemoth than the last. With Magnolia, Anderson finds himself expanding his oeuvre. While Boogie Nights was a tight, focused character drama, Magnolia is sprawling, dense, and quite lengthy piece of work that hints at the strong character relations that would characterize films like There Will Be Blood and The Master. It's ambitious, certainly - but it is better to have ambition and falter than to have no ambition at all.

Magnolia being an ensemble film, it's important that the characters are intriguing, and luckily, the characters in this film are so well-rounded and realistic that you'll find yourself rooting for them to overcome their personal struggles despite their many vices. Julianne Moore plays a distraught woman caught in the most unfortunate of circumstances, and plays it wonderfully. Philip Seymour Hoffman is incredible as always. William H. Macy isn't weird as hell for once, and plays a down-on-his-luck child star who misses being something that mattered. The crowning performance of this film, however, is Tom Cruise's. I have always been skeptical of Cruise's acting ability - his acting has always been more serviceable to me than anything amazing, but with this film, he's proved me wrong. Cruise crafts one of his finest performances to date as Frank T.J. Mackey - a repulsive, arrogant, and slimy character who pitches a program for men to pick up women solely for sex. Yet there's a moment with him towards the film's climax that is so utterly devastating, you'll literally gasp in disbelief.

Your overall enjoyment of Magnolia is contingent on many factors - whether you prefer your movies taut or sprawling, how you react to the improbable occurrence that transpires three-fourths into the film, and, more insignificantly - if you like Aimee Mann or not; but what makes Magnolia so solidly engrossing and ultimately harrowing is its writing. Lines like "These are things that happen", "This is the scene of the movie where you help me out", or even "I really do have love to give; I just don't know where to put it" (delivered by a teary-eyed Donnie Smith) are just a few of the phenomenal lines included in Magnolia. More than anything, the writing articulates our innate desire to want strange and explainable occurrences in life to make sense, especially in the bizarre opening of the film.

The pitfall of Magnolia, however, is that it can be a bit self-indulgent at times. Like I mentioned before, there's a specific circumstance in the film - you'll know it when you see it - that will make or break the film for you. It's certainly a grand visual and emotional spectacle, which is funny, because it's certainly not the defining, cathartic moment you'd expect from a film that has been hitherto dark and upsetting. I think I enjoyed this sequence because of how it subverted expectations: you're led to believe that these characters' lives will intertwine in an organic, meaningful way, but it's just frogs. And that is wonderful.

There are also times when the film can get a bit slow, especially if you're not as fond of certain characters (I personally wasn't too keen on the Gators, and no, not alligators, that's their last name) as you are of others, but for the most part, it's wonderful that a film of this length can keep you interested for this long, especially if it's an original film. Also, like many Paul Thomas Anderson's films, the movie is just so invigorating that it has trouble ending on a fitting note, ending somewhat abruptly even though we just spent three hours with these characters and want some sort of resolution.

Magnolia has plenty of redeeming value, though, and I exhort you to see it when you get the chance; especially if you're that weird type that feels nothing in real life and relies on movies for emotional sustenance. It's highly original, thought-provoking, emotional, and even quite entertaining. Just watch out for the frogs.