The MasterMaybe in this life--maybe in past lives, if those even exist--there's the idea that you might just find your way, and have some sense of what life actually means beyond following the motions of emotions, and all the tedium that goes with it. Or maybe, that's all there is, and that's enough for someone who realizes that is enough to prey upon. We all want answers to those big questions, the ones we ask ourselves in those moments of loneliness, or the ones we are too afraid to ask. Those moments in the dark are when we seek a guiding hand, someone to take control, and give us meaning...even if the meaning doesn't mean anything at all.
|
|
Paul Thomas Anderson's The Master is the story of Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix), a WWII vet with post-traumatic stress disorder. He is socially maladjusted, obsessed with sex, and an alcoholic of dangerous proportions. After the war, Freddie's life is out of control, and he's incapable of holding down a job, slips into bouts of violence, and his only notable talent is crafting creative batches of moonshine. One night, he stows away on a yacht commandeered by one Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman)--"The Master"--a self-help guru and author whose published book has set a select community alight with the promise of unlocking the secrets of the universe and the self through "processing" memories and rejecting the illusions our life casts upon us. The two men bond over drinking Freddie's strange brew. These two men appear as polar opposites--Freddie is apt to respond with his emotions, without control, whereas The Master is eloquent and charming, in control as behooves his moniker. Lancaster and Freddie become friends, even though others like Lancaster's wife, Peggy (Amy Adams) view Freddie as a bad influence on Lancaster, or more importantly his image. For so long, Freddie has felt that he doesn't belong, and his alcoholism and his sex obsession are testaments to this sense of alienation and disconnect with the world. When Lancaster invites him into his world, listens to him, gets him to open up where the military doctors could not about his problems--employing impotent Rorschach tests and gruff interrogations in the guise of therapy--Freddie feels a freedom that even we haven't been privy to by this point. Before he knows it, Freddie is Lancaster's guinea pig and best cheerleader for "The Cause", even when it motivates him to step outside the lines and defend Lancaster unquestioningly with violent measures. Would that Lancaster's method were as potent for others as it is for Freddie, Lancaster might be regarded uniformly as a gifted teacher, rather than in his local circles. Instead, much of Lancaster's work is critiqued as being akin to hypnosis--which it is--and the fabrications of an imaginative author rather than the enlightened revelation of a scientific guru--which it is not.
The best qualities of The Master are in its ability to show us the world and give us the space to draw our own conclusions. The best stories told for adults are those which ask more questions than espouse answers, and give us a wide berth to till the fields of our thoughts with our own plow of discernment. Is Lancaster Dodd exploiting Freddie Quell's PTSD to carve him into an idol, a shill to hock the enlightened wares of his cult, because he is a pliable mind? Because he is emotionally vulnerable, does Dodd seize upon him like a hawk, with Freddie forced to dance like a puppet in his talons? Is Freddie using Dodd--if subconsciously--as a way station between odd jobs, an easy way to get some room and board, and maybe some version of therapy for his troubled soul? Are these two men--the best of friends--connected deeper by some past lives, or even just the sense that they represent to the other a part of themselves they have since left aside, a yin to the other's yang, an id to the superego? All this is possible, but maybe none of it is. Maybe these two men just happened to cross paths, and like so many of us, we share a little time with one another, then go our separate ways. Maybe our lives are enriched a little by that time...or maybe we all go back to what we truly are in the end. The film is called The Master, ostensibly referring to Lancaster Dodd, the leader of his fans and zealots, seeking enlightenment in their past lives, programming/processing, whatever fills the void, but the story is about Freddie, who is no master of anything, much less his own life. Lancaster observes that Freddie has no master, that he lives his life free on the metaphorical seas, a sailor without a destination. When he says this, there is an air of derision to his tone, one implying that Freddie remains an animal, a quality to be abjectly rejected in Lancaster's creed. Freddie is not just without a master, he is adrift, and he knows it; a multitude of images of the foaming seas, the wake of a vessel adrift the ocean is revisited time and again. The pictures are not just pretty, but illuminate that Freddie--like all of us--never really know just where we are going, but also that we too crave some sense of direction, some need to feel that our lives have purpose, be it God, work, love, anything we can plug in that hole to staunch the bleeding out of our souls. Freddie looks back on the truest regret--a young girl named Doris (Madisen Beaty), whom he loved but neglected, then ran from, and has been running ever since. His regret is the trauma which grips him in the tiger's paw, and is upon which Lancaster hinges his control of Freddie. Maybe Freddie gets wise to Lancaster's method, or maybe he doesn't really care, or maybe Freddie has his fifteen minutes of moksha, and that's enough--our final read of Freddie is our own, one we conclude without artificial guidance, master not included.
Recommended for: Fans of a psychologically complex drama about an emotionally weak man taken under the wing of a charismatic leader and potential con man, a struggle of wills and consciousness, and of a driving dysfunctional friendship.
The best qualities of The Master are in its ability to show us the world and give us the space to draw our own conclusions. The best stories told for adults are those which ask more questions than espouse answers, and give us a wide berth to till the fields of our thoughts with our own plow of discernment. Is Lancaster Dodd exploiting Freddie Quell's PTSD to carve him into an idol, a shill to hock the enlightened wares of his cult, because he is a pliable mind? Because he is emotionally vulnerable, does Dodd seize upon him like a hawk, with Freddie forced to dance like a puppet in his talons? Is Freddie using Dodd--if subconsciously--as a way station between odd jobs, an easy way to get some room and board, and maybe some version of therapy for his troubled soul? Are these two men--the best of friends--connected deeper by some past lives, or even just the sense that they represent to the other a part of themselves they have since left aside, a yin to the other's yang, an id to the superego? All this is possible, but maybe none of it is. Maybe these two men just happened to cross paths, and like so many of us, we share a little time with one another, then go our separate ways. Maybe our lives are enriched a little by that time...or maybe we all go back to what we truly are in the end. The film is called The Master, ostensibly referring to Lancaster Dodd, the leader of his fans and zealots, seeking enlightenment in their past lives, programming/processing, whatever fills the void, but the story is about Freddie, who is no master of anything, much less his own life. Lancaster observes that Freddie has no master, that he lives his life free on the metaphorical seas, a sailor without a destination. When he says this, there is an air of derision to his tone, one implying that Freddie remains an animal, a quality to be abjectly rejected in Lancaster's creed. Freddie is not just without a master, he is adrift, and he knows it; a multitude of images of the foaming seas, the wake of a vessel adrift the ocean is revisited time and again. The pictures are not just pretty, but illuminate that Freddie--like all of us--never really know just where we are going, but also that we too crave some sense of direction, some need to feel that our lives have purpose, be it God, work, love, anything we can plug in that hole to staunch the bleeding out of our souls. Freddie looks back on the truest regret--a young girl named Doris (Madisen Beaty), whom he loved but neglected, then ran from, and has been running ever since. His regret is the trauma which grips him in the tiger's paw, and is upon which Lancaster hinges his control of Freddie. Maybe Freddie gets wise to Lancaster's method, or maybe he doesn't really care, or maybe Freddie has his fifteen minutes of moksha, and that's enough--our final read of Freddie is our own, one we conclude without artificial guidance, master not included.
Recommended for: Fans of a psychologically complex drama about an emotionally weak man taken under the wing of a charismatic leader and potential con man, a struggle of wills and consciousness, and of a driving dysfunctional friendship.