Intro

I love movies. I have loved movies all my life. I grew up on them. When I was eight years old, I managed to convince myself I would make movies when I grew up. Now I am in the process of getting a degree in Film Studies. I write about film more than ever before, partly because I have to for my classes, mostly because I enjoy it, because I have something to write about. Sometimes it helps me understand the film better; sometimes it helps me understand myself better.
I created this blog as a place to showcase my work, and also as an incentive to keep writing reviews, analyses, and essays over breaks, when there’s no one here to grade me.
I have tried many times, and failed, to explain in a coherent manner why it is that I love films. Here is my best—and most coherent—guess.





Showing posts with label Paul Thomas Anderson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Paul Thomas Anderson. Show all posts

Friday, September 27, 2013

Punch-Drunk Love (2002) Analysis



Calling Paul Thomas Anderson’s Punch-Drunk Love a romantic comedy seems inappropriate; although it utilizes many of the conventions of the genre, it does so self-consciously, and subverts more conventions than it embraces, casting a knowing gaze on the lighthearted, predictable, and frequently mindless Hollywood fare and twisting it into this surreal, darkly funny, completely surprising and truly original movie of often fearsome beauty. In traditional romantic comedies, as in P.T. Anderson’s film, boy meets girl and has to overcome substantial obstacles strewn across the path to true love; if only more movies could incorporate the use of crowbars, novelty toilet plungers, hundreds of cups of Healthy Choice pudding, harmonium abandonment, and phone sex extortionists into their love stories, a trip to the multiplex would be ever so much more exciting. From the first scenes of Punch-Drunk Love, it is clear we have left the world as we know it and entered the writer/director’s universe, in which the earth seems to rotate and revolve much as it does in real life, only at a rather skewed angle, and everything stands suspended a few degrees away from logic and reality.

Saturday, May 4, 2013

"But It Did Happen": Paul Thomas Anderson's Magnolia



“This is not just something that happened,” the narrator says in voice over narration during the prologue to Paul Thomas Anderson’s Magnolia (1999). “This cannot be ‘one of those things.’ This, please, cannot be that… this was not just a matter of chance. These strange things happen all the time.” In P.T. Anderson’s world, strange things do happen all the time. Human life is seemingly accidental, suspended in a state of organized chaos, but, try as we might, we have no bearing on that organization. Every action has a consequence, unfortunately not always an equal and opposite reaction. In Magnolia, Anderson’s operatic, multi-stranded meditation on fate, coincidence, life, death, family, loss, and love, over a dozen characters have their existence interrupted by the hectic, arbitrary forces of the universe as they embark on a moral odyssey through their past, present, and future. The writer/director interweaves the stories of these disparate, desperate people over a twenty-four hour period in the San Fernando Valley, creating a haunting mosaic of American life through a series of interposed comic-tragic vignettes, each one a poignant portrait of human and urban malaise.

***This is an in-depth analysis of Magnolia, and it contains spoilers.