Saturday, March 28, 2015

Inherent Vice

Pynchon, of course, a past icon of mine (although Inherent Vice is something of an outlier - a far less lightly coded, more straightforward version of his habitual literary thickets); Paul Thomas Anderson maybe the best director working in Hollywood today (and I still haven't even seen the so very acclaimed There Will Be Blood).[*] Plus Joaquin Phoenix, who for me has come along a trajectory matched only by Matthew McConaughey from intense dislike to considerable respect and enjoyment.

Add it up, and what you get is a film that succeeds on terms that are at once set by its source material and created by itself - Pynchon's distinctive rhythms, cadences and spirals rendered remarkably effectively (albeit probably only possible with this particular novel of his) not least via Joanna Newsom's affecting narration and appearances, Anderson bringing his usual sublime eye to proceedings while drenching it all in 70s iconography, Phoenix the shambling, human-symbolic figure at its centre, while others whirl in and out and around. Impressively, the off-kilter humour translates too.

(w/ David)

[*] Much as I love Sofia Coppola and do admire the craft and style in her work, my response to her films feels like it arises from something far more personal than in any sense objective.