Jeffrey:

Well put, sir, although if we had had this discussion after my initial viewing of Magnolia, I would not be quite so agreeable. Maybe we should go back in time and do our Movie Challenge in 1999 … it might make for a more interesting discussion. You see, the first time I saw Magnolia, I thought it was a piece of horse shit.

First of all, I really love Short Cuts, and Magnolia struck me as an obnoxiously melodramatic and unnecessary remake of Short Cuts in which Anderson covers his inability to put all of the pieces together with cutesy tricks like the singalong scene and the rain of frogs. Second of all, Anderson’s dialogue is sometimes cringeworthy in its preciousness. Example:

Ricky Jay: There are stories of coincidence and chance, of intersections and strange things told, and which is which and who only knows? And we generally say, “Well, if that was in a movie, I wouldn’t believe it.” Someone’s so-and-so met someone else’s so-and-so and so on. And it is in the humble opinion of this narrator that strange things happen all the time. And so it goes, and so it goes. And the book says, “We may be through with the past, but the past ain’t through with us.”

I also sometimes feel like his characters are not characters so much as vessels for sentences. I can see the periods in the air when his characters speak. A lot of the dialogue. Oh fuck. Comes out like … and I know this might sound ridiculous, but I just have to say what the fuck, my god, what the fuck … it comes out like this. And this dialogue is exactly as it was, and as it shall be, and we think it’s good, but it’s not, it’s pain and hurting and trying and want and it always ends up fucking us right in the fucker. Forever and ever. Amen. Amen. Right in the fucker. Amen.

Third of all, the Robards scene. Right before the mid-film singalong, Anderson treats us to the extended gibberish ravings of Jason Robards on a severe morphine binge. Robards, to his credit, is wholly convincing as a man with severe dementia, wheezing and fish-eyeing his way through the 9 1/2 minute monologue. It is agonizing to watch. I assume this is the point, that life is painful and death is miserable. But all this scene does is make me want to put a pillow over Robards’s head. Actual sample dialogue:

Earl Partridge: This fucking life. Ohhhhh. So fucking hard. So long. Life ain’t short, it’s long. It’s long, goddammit. Ohhh. Godammmmn. What did I do? What did I do? What did I do? What did I do? Help. Help. Help me. You. What did I do?

Does Anderson make his point in this scene? I suppose. But look at it this way … if Anderson had shown Robards chowing down on a big lump of shit it might make me vomit. And then you could say, “see how great Anderson is at directing? He wanted to make you vomit and he did!” But guess what? I don’t really enjoy vomiting.

My opinion at the time was firmly in the minority among my film-fanatic friends (as it still is with There Will Be Blood, a movie that feels hollow and pretentious to me … although before you freak out on me, please note that I always leave the possibility open that I will change my mind). The only person I knew who hated it as much as me was my friend Matt, who I saw it with. This led to some uncomfortable discussions about how I was an idiot, particularly with my other friend Matt (may he rest in peace), a giant P.T. Anderson fan. My dislike of Magnolia basically destroyed our relationship until I moved to Los Angeles and reconnected with him. I never had the heart to tell him that I didn’t like There Will Be Blood.

All that having been said, I did recognize something in the experience that made me think I would like to revisit Magnolia at a later date. (Just as, in spite of my sound thrashing of the Avatar script, I have been thinking I’d really like to see it again.) So when Magnolia came out on DVD, I bought it. Because that’s the kind of thing I did when I was young and had disposable income. And I have come to appreciate its charms and accept it for what it is, which is a great, big, sprawling, messy, ambitious, meticulously-crafted meditation on life, death, love, family, and frogs.

As Mike says, watching Magnolia is an epic experience. Contrary to my initial reaction, Magnolia is not trying to wrap all the stories together in a neat bow in the same way as Short Cuts or (the much sloppier) Crash. (Although, to be fair, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who got the false impression that this was Anderson’s M.O. from the film’s prologue.) Many of the characters are only tangentially related. The connections in Magnolia are not forged through events, but through shared emotions. This is why the singalong works … it occurs at the turning point of each story, in which all the characters are in their most extreme emotional states. Where the stories in Short Cuts are interlocking, the stories in Magnolia are parallel. Each gives us a greater understanding of the others. It’s a neat trick and one that makes Magnolia more susceptible to repeat viewings than many other films in my collection.

The one major point of contention I have with you (Mike) is over Tom Cruise’s performance. I actually really like Tom Cruise as an actor. Yes, he’s a maniac in real life. But despite that (or maybe because of it), I find his brand of intensity endlessly fascinating to watch on film. Tom Cruise in real life is that wild-eyed character Nicholas Cage always plays, and when Tom Cruise acts, he is like Nicholas Cage playing a crazy man who is trying desperately to not act crazy. And Frank T.J. Mackey is the quintessential Tom Cruise as Nicholas Cage acting crazy while trying not to act crazy role. It is pure joy watching Tom Cruise tear into this dialogue. And oh, what dialogue it is:

What I say is, Denise, Denise the piece … I mark it down. Oh, I write it up. And you have been warned. Because I have my lasers, I have my tasers, I have my ICBMs, I have my bazookas, I have my jets pointed right … at … you. Because me and my brothers, we like to celebrate. And on the First of May, we celebrate V Day. And come June, oh, baby, it is the LICK of my spoon. Come August, we like to celebrate SAINT SUCK MY BIG FAT FUCKING saus-AGE! … Oh fucking Denise, Denise the piece … you are gonna give me that cherry pie SWEET mama baby!

His early scenes in the “Seduce and Destroy” seminar and the interview are not just the best scenes in Magnolia, they are among my favorite scenes in film, period. He ain’t subtle, but he’s pitch-perfect in the role.

And the only other point I feel must be mentioned is the stellar performance of 12-year-old Jeremy Blackman as Stanley, the current reigning “What Do Kids Know?” champ. His story and character are by far the most affecting in the film to me, and there isn’t a false note in his performance. According to IMDB, Blackman has only been in a handful of TV shows and 2 no-budget movies since Magnolia, which is surprising … he’s really incredible in this film. Maybe it’s by design … I guess the last thing the world needs is another overworked child actor getting ugly and pubescent before our eyes. (No offense, Elijah Wood! I loved you in North!)

On the Awkward Scale of Pizzas, I give Magnolia … five pizzas!

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