A Tribute To A Real Genius

Every once in a while, every other generation or so, we get a gift from the acting gods to grace the silver screen with their incredible and versatile talent. And more often than not, those wonders get taken from us far too quickly. In the past decade we've had more losses than we know what to do with, and the landscape of film has become lacking no matter how many surprisingly good performances Jennifer Lawrence turns out. 

The most obvious that comes to mind is last year's loss of comedy icon Robin Williams. It hurt particularly because he dedicated his life to making people laugh and in this world there is no more a noble profession, with the exception of Doctors Without Borders. But I'm speaking about entertainment here. 

For me personally, a day I will never forget was January 22nd, 2008. My mom called me around 8pm New York time to tell me that Heath Ledger was found dead in his SoHo penthouse. I didn't have a TV, so I hadn't heard, but made it over there in time just to watch the camera crews surrounding his building pack up for the night. It didn't take me long to realize the gravity of that loss. Heath Ledger was very much on his way to being our generation's Marlon Brando, and to die so tragically without even peaking at the young age of 28, without all of us seeing what more he could have given us, fresh off of his performance in Brokeback Mountain, none of us in the film community were ever the same again. 

Arguably his best performance in the rather flawed epic The Master working with frequent collaborator, P.T. Anderson as egomaniacal cult leader Lancaster Dodd.

Just when we had begun the healing process, we had another enormous blow; last year in February when one of the most talented people to ever gift the acting community with his presence lost his life; Philip Seymour Hoffman. Yesterday was his birthday, and instead of dwell on the fact that we will never have another brilliant Hoffman performance, I'd like to remember some of the best that he left us with. Unlike Ledger, Hoffman left behind an indelible legacy of stellar performances that will always be iconic and always be studied, analyzed, and used as basis and inspiration for others. As a true actor's actor, Hoffman had such a profound understanding of his craft and an even bigger respect for it. In every role he played, he brought to it heart, sincerity, and immeasurable depth. There will never be another Hoffman, but at least we have his legacy that generations upon generations of actors will look to when building themselves as masters of their craft. 

Hoffman so brilliantly embodied Truman Capote that his pastiche would be just as good to show someone if you were trying to tell them about who Capote was. It wasn't an interpretation, and it wasn't an impression. It was bringing someone back to life. 

I would go out on a limb and say that there is not a bad performance in his repertoire. From flimsy films like Along Came Polly to bravado like The Master, Hoffman never missed a beat. I personally will always remember his performance as Rusty, the down on her luck drag queen in the teeny Joel Schumacher film Flawless, opposite Robert DeNiro, as well as the awkward boom operator for a porn producer in Boogie Nights, as well as of course, his second to none almost carbon copy of Truman Capote in Capote, for which he won a well-deserved Oscar. Then there was Lester Bangs in Almost Famous, and perhaps my personal favorite; the blocked introverted novelist-turned-screenwriter in State and Main. No matter how small the role, or how small the film, Hoffman took it upon himself to elevate his role in the project and basically carried a lot of the films towards their successes. I don't know what the scope of cinema would be today without him, I would imagine very different. This was a man who could literally do anything, and was such a absolute master of his craft that he raised the bar for everyone else. So on his birthday (one day late, forgive me) I salute you sir. There will never be another, and you will always be missed. Thank you for sharing your gift, and even from a snarky sarcastic cynical person like me, I truly mean it. 

Below, some of the performances mentioned. All of which, unforgettable. 

The Master is the Gayest Movie You'll See All Year

Just warning you, this is written assuming those who read it have seen the film already, so I'm giving a lot away, don't like it? Don't give a shit. I had this overwhelming sense of dread while walking into the theater, you know the kind you get from knowing you're walking into an over-hyped art-for-art-sake long-as-shit-for-no-reason film that all the snooty critics can't stop buzzing about? Remember when we paid money to see Tree of Life (2011)? It was that kind of dread.

Paul Thomas Anderson has always been a hit or miss kind of director to me, and this was definitely a miss. The only thing I could find to justify this clumsy misfire, is to look at the homoerotic angle in the film, which to me was very prevalent, but everything is gay to me. Anyway, it's an interesting angle to think about and has been mentioned in quite a few reviews on the film, and anyone with more than two braincells clicking away upstairs is sure to catch it.
I kept thinking about what Gore Vidal said to William Wyler while in pre-production for Ben-Hur (1959). He was disconcerted writing the script as he basically deduced that there wasn't enough in the plot to make it a 2 and a half hour long movie; A Jew and a Roman used to be friends, now they disagree on politics and fight. That's barely interesting as far as he was concerned so he suggested that the two main characters played by Charleton Heston (Ben-Hur) and Stephen Boyd (Messala) were lovers, and the conflict between the two of them was actually because Messala wanted to start the relationship back on and Ben-Hur wasn't interested. Throwing sex into the mix always makes it more interesting. And hey, it ended up working didn't it?
Here's the dirt on The Master (2012). Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) is a plethora of mental disorders. He's bipolar, manic, borderline, and he's an alcoholic and a sex addict. H has PTSD, ADHD, OCD, so basically he's beseeched by acronyms. Ergo, he's brilliant fodder for 'The Cause', the Scientology-esque movement sprung from the mind of Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman) who takes an instant liking to him, and takes him under his wing. 

Lancaster Dodd (PSH) posing in a picture Freddie (Joaquin Phoenix) takes of him. it's one of the most intimate parts in the whole movie as Freddie gently adjusts Dodd's hair with the tip of his fingers and the two men stare deeply into each other's eyes and then it's back to business.

As the relationship develops between the two of them, we learn their most depraved secrets, particularly those of Freddie, who is a much more developed, nuanced character than that of Dodd. It seems as though every woman in his life has abandoned him from his mother to his child-bride, and now he unsuccessfully strives to find wholeness in empty marathon fuckfests that always end up being his undoing. Dodd, sensing his self-destructive nature makes Freddie engage in a series of depracating and humiliating tasks or 'tests' based on the teachings of 'The Cause', and in the emotional climax of one in particular Freddie exclaims 'I can leave anytime I want to but I choose to stay!' and the entire audience is left wondering; 'um, why exactly?' PT Anderson never actually reveals the answer. This is a director who's fear of not being subtle enough yields the exact opposite, it's too subtle to the point of being confusing. To me, the answer was very clear - he stays because he's in love with Dodd. It's an intense, adult kind of love and affection that of which he had never achieved in the past, and he allows it to consume him.
In turn, in the last scene (I told you, if you haven't seen it, don't read this) when Dodd invites Freddy to England (or perhaps he doesn't and Freddie dreams the invitation, that's never made clear either) he sings to him; 'I'd like to get you on a slow boat to China...all to myself alone' the rest of the lyrics go something like 'get you and keep you in my arms evermore', basically spelling out to Freddie that he loves him too. Both men cry because they are aware that whatever it is they had is over forever despite their best efforts. 

Amy Adams plays the almsot terrifyingly controlling wife of Dodd who always seems to have something to say or do against Freddie, and almost always has an strong opinion to assert.

Also, from the beginning, there is a wedge driven between the two by Dodd's wife, Peggy (Amy Adams). She makes her presence in Dodd's life, particularly his sexual life perfectly clear when she for lack of better terms, jacks him off, whilst telling him how bad Freddy is for The Cause, asserting her sexual prowess over him. She increasingly becomes more and more hostile towards Freddie as she feels her influence over Dodd dwindling and becomes threatened and resentful by his position in their life together. And the entire time you're watching her you're wondering why exactly is she such a shrewish bitch, and it's because she's jealous of the love those two men share for each other. It's actually pretty simple. 
So basically, what I'm saying is The Master is not an exposé on Scientology, nor is it a character study, nor is it a mental-masturbation all over the audiences face in 72 mm, though that was my initial opinion of the film. It's a love story between two broken society outcasts looking in desperate confusion for answers and solutions to their ever present loneliness. In that sense it's rather beautiful, but then again, I'm not sure at all if that was PT Anderson's intention all along. I'd like to think so because that's the only redeeming quality the film has. 

Below is the ridiculous 3 minute trailer that basically shows you the entire film and saves you $12.50 

 Below, that Gore Vidal thing I was talking about -