Episode 11: The Master
Justin:
Without fear of sounding hyperbolic, allow me to throw this out there: Philip Seymour Hoffman is the greatest actor of all-time.
Not that I need to actually defend this take (it should be received as cold, hard fact) but I’ll simply say that there are few actors of any generation who have the impeccable screen presence that Hoffman did. Now, there are countless examples outside of his brilliant work in the film we just discussed here, but let me focus on one particular three year window in the early 2000s that shows off the absolutely insane range he had. First he was able to achieve being obnoxious, but ridiculously hilarious in the severely lesser-than comedy Along Came Polly (a movie you only remember in any way because of him slipping on the dance floor or playing pick-up basketball). He then moved to playing real-life author Truman Capote, giving a confident, convincing portrayal of an eloquent writer who always had something to say (a movie you’ve mostly forgotten as well, but a role that earned him an Oscar). He then followed that up by absolutely crushing it as the single greatest villain in the Mission Impossible franchise, hamming it up just the right amount and bringing a real believable evil to a series that of course tends to lean on the extraordinary. I’m just not sure anyone else before or since could pull off that particular series of roles.
Seeing him on screen immediately brings a smile to my face, even if the content of the film is dreary, which is something that is often the case as evidenced by taking a trip down his IMDB page. But to think of what he did in the just short of 20 years he spent in high profile films and the memorable roles that he brought to us makes me both eternally grateful and incredibly sad, the latter because of how addiction took him from us at just 46 years old. I’m just sitting here smiling through tears as I imagine how he could have improved the world of movies over the last 6 years… could he have been the dad in Get Out (sorry, Bradley Whitford)? Or what about the boss in Baby Driver (kick rocks, Kevin Spacey)? Or what about the guy Adam Sandler owed money to in Uncut Gems? Or any number of supporting roles in movies like The Big Short, Spotlight, BlackKklansman, or maybe even move on from the Hunger Games to go play villains in tentpole franchises like the MCU, James Bond, or even, god forbid, Star Wars. The possibilities are endless. Or would be. And that again just really, really bums me out. But at least we have all of the amazing work he did in his time here to honor and celebrate what a truly great performer he unquestionably was. I guess what I’m really trying to say with all of that is, as far as actors go, Philip Seymour Hoffman was, in every sense of the word, the master.
Pete:
It’s entirely possible Paul Thomas Anderson is your favorite director’s favorite director. His movies are a big deal to anyone who cares about cinema, but it’s interesting to note that half of his movies haven’t turned a profit. And even among his money makers, none of them have grossed more than $76M at the box office, with most just barely sneaking into the black. This doesn’t matter to anyone who loves his movies, of course, but there’s something to be said about an artist who uses the financing he’s able to get to make difficult, challenging films that aren’t focus grouped, or screened to death to appeal to as broad an audience as possible. PTA’s films are idiosyncratic and dense, but also rewarding to anyone who takes the time and expends the mental energy to examine both their craft and meaning.
When art and commerce intersect, it’s notoriously difficult to find the spot where these two conflicting ideologies meet. Anderson’s career is no different – how does he continue to secure financing for movies that very clearly are not for mass audiences in a Hollywood culture that devalues these kinds of movies more and more as the years pass? I don’t have the answer to that, but you can be sure I’m glad he’s able to make the impossible happen time and again. I fear difficult, unique filmmakers like him are a dying breed for numerous reasons, and in a very real way, it makes the distinctly American period pieces he enjoys making that much more special. There’s immeasurable value in showing the struggles and plight of humans during specific periods in history, and to do so with such boldness and originality is worth more to our great experiment than any number of tickets sold could possibly ever be.