# Magnolia (1999)

### reviewed by
Bill Chambers

MAGNOLIA ***1/2 (out of four) -a review by Bill Chambers (bill@filmfreakcentral.net)

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starring Jason Robards, Julianne Moore, Tom Cruise, Philip Seymour Hoffman written and directed by Paul Thomas Anderson

    Step right up, folks.

Paul Thomas Anderson, hyphenate creator of Boogie Nights and the even better Hard Eight, understands that chance encounters in movies, even docudramas, never fly, so he braces you for the San Fernando Valley-set Magnolia, his three hour ode to coincidence, with a dazzling prologue that underlines the film's basic theme: "strange things happen." In quick succession, Anderson, who goes by P.T. (evoking the name of a certain ringleader), stages a 1911 murder, the death of a scuba-diving casino dealer, and the homicide of a man in mid-suicide. The karmic overtones of these three random acts of violence are absurd-we'd only believe them in life if they were related to us in that reliable fashion, "This friend of mine knows a guy who..."

A blaring TV announces the arrival of the story proper-all of Magnolia's characters are at least peripherally connected with the television trade. Game show producer Earl Patridge (Robards) is afflicted with terminal cancer, as is Jimmy Gator (Phillip Baker Hall), the emcee of his most popular program, "What Do Kids Know?". Earl's estranged son is Frank T.J. Mackey (Cruise), a wildly successful host of seminars ("Seduce and Destroy") for sexually frustrated men. Jimmy's estranged daughter is Claudia (Melora Walters), a sometime prostitute with a fearsome coke habit.

Christian cop Jim Kurring (John C. Reilly) will eventually meet and court Claudia. The police officer, like Donnie Smith (William H. Macy), a former quiz show contestant, is at first an object of ridicule, an earnest stumblebum given to bouts of transparent bravado. The two men generate pathos when the truth of their shared loneliness comes to the fore. ("I have so much love to give," Donnie wails. "I just don't know where to put it.") Adolescent Stanley Spector (Jeremy Blackman) is the image of Donnie at the height of his fame-the child is a reigning "What Do Kids Know?" champion and, mainly due to pressure from his greedy, boorish father (Michael Bowen), on the brink of a breakdown.

Finally, there are Earl's caretakers: Linda (Moore), his hysterical trophy wife, and Phil Parma (Hoffman), a devoted nurse-he, too, is single, sparing no love for anyone but Earl. The old man's last request is a reunion with his only child, so Phil dutifully hangs on the phone forever with Frank's handlers. Wryly echoing what was suggested by the elaborate introduction, Phil tells an operator, "You know the scene [in the movie] in which the dying man tries to get in touch with his long-lost son?...There's a reason they have those scenes-because they actually happen." (Regrettably, the film's prevalent black character, a rappin' klepto, falls victim to stereotype.)

One gathers from watching the glorious pop mess that is Magnolia that Anderson has cobbled together every stray idea that ever landed in his imagination. The film includes a gut-wrenching corker of a musical number in which the characters sing along, in divergent locales, to a lyric from Aimee Mann's pseudo-inspirational "Wise Up". (Nine of Mann's tunes adroitly grace the soundtrack.) While the film's aggressively unpredictable bent makes room for such playfulness, it also paves the way for an irksome climax-an unforeseen event, guaranteed to blindside cold audiences, lets the air out of the tire, so to speak. Artistically liberating in that it lets Anderson off the hook at an especially tense juncture, this final freak occurrence doesn't go far enough in mirroring the mysteries outlined in Magnolia's preface-it lacks a sense of destiny, of psychic neatness.

At least the conclusion is beautiful to behold-cinematographer Robert Elswit at peak performance. His camera is more patient, but no less animate, here than elsewhere in the picture. Anderson has encouraged Elswit and editor Dylan Tichenor to pace Magnolia, for the first two-thirds, like a coke binge. This risky, channel-surfing approach keeps us sharp and is utterly appropriate, considering the content-the extended family members on display are children of the boob tube and have built boxes around themselves. I gather that, because he has called Magnolia his most personal effort in interviews, Anderson's scope of experience does not range beyond dealings with entertainment industry types, for Earl's turf is only two steps away from that of Boogie Nights' porn czar Floyd Gondolli. Fortunately, the emotions on parade in Magnolia are universal.

As you may have surmised, I'm a big fan of both Hard Eight and Boogie Nights (which earned fourth place on my Top 10 of 1997); Anderson is one of the only hip directors to emerge from the nineties with a discernible style. Beyond the most obvious motifs-the whip pans (borrowed from Scorsese but used to signature effect), the cutesy title cards, the persistent music, and the penis fixation (there lurks a Dirk Diggler-sized dragon in the briefs of Frank Mackey, too)-a hopefulness pervades his work. The initially miserable Magnolia is Anderson's most optimistic vision yet, made sonorous by the best ensemble of the year. (It would be fruitless to pick standouts, for each actor leaves a ghost.) The film's absolute message is sentimental and appealing: fate doesn't have to win.

Magnolia is a deeply felt kitchen sink movie reminiscent, in a good way, of Robert Altman's sprawling ensemble pieces (the cameo appearance of Henry Gibson-as an old queen named Thurston Howell (!)-is an oblique reference to Nashville). According to its defamers, Anderson has committed the high crime of self-indulgence, a stigmatic observation I've regrettably made in past reviews-it unfairly insinuates that ambition is offensive. One should exit this film with, above all else, respect for the modern Barnum's talent, chutzpah, and sincerity, and wonder what he'll do for an encore.

    -January, 2000

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