The Master film movie review

It can be really disappointing to experience something that feels average when you are expecting something that is amazing. With no expectations, something average is generally okay, but when you experience something that lets you down, there's a sense of loss. With that being said, my time with the movie Drive Angry was actually much better than time spent with The Master.

Paul Thomas Anderson has some really great movies under his belt; Boogie Nights and There Will Be Blood are a couple movies that everyone should see at some point (Magnolia also provides a really interesting, original experience, and I'll fully admit that I don't enjoy it as much as the others). I still consider it to be a good movie that most people would enjoy. I don't feel this way about The Master.

Here's the deal with The Master (the plot points that I mention are early in the movie, so don't worry about any huge spoilers): Joaquin Phoenix plays Freddie Quells, an alcoholic Navy vet who is obsessed with sex and mentally imbalanced due to repeatedly enjoying mixed drinks with paint thinner (in addition to past trauma). Drifting along, he randomly encounters Lancaster Dodd (Phillip Seymour Hoffman), a cult leader who genuinely likes him and takes him into his flock.

Joaquin often likes to show off his lats.

This is a movie that has so much going for it, but I feel like it failed me. The acting performances are amazing, scenes are shot in an interesting fashion, the script is well-written, and the characters are multi-dimensional.

Here's what is wrong with The Master: The movie moves slowly... really slowly, and it is so unclear about what it wants to be. There's not much of a plot, and if you're looking for an interesting story that stays interesting for the whole movie, you'll be disappointed. There's no payoff that ties everything together. You'll wait for it, but it never happens. That's it. Some people will probably look at this review and consider that I'm someone who just doesn't "get it", and I'm okay with that. It is supposed to be an artsy movie.

I don't mind abstract art when it is in the form of a painting because I can immediately identify it as abstract. I can take a second, third, fourth look at the picture and attempt to assign some kind of meaning to it. If I'm not interested in at all, I can just walk away immediately. When it takes roughly 2 1/2 hours for me to realize that I'm watching abstract art on-screen, I feel a bit cheated. It makes me wish that I had been warned about this movie, so here is my warning to you.