by Josh Sewell
As someone who respects revered filmmaker Paul Thomas Anderson’s work but doesn’t always enjoy it, I was shocked at how much I loved his latest, Licorice Pizza. I’m pretty sure I had a giant smile on my face for more than two hours and wanted to watch it again as soon as it was over.
His love letter to 1970s California has a much different plot than Cameron Crowe’s magnum opus Almost Famous, but it definitely feels like his take on similar themes. That includes how he utilizes bizarre humor, eccentric characters, a ton of heart and an incredible soundtrack.
The episodic story revolves around two oddballs becoming friends and falling in love. Alana Kane (Alana Haim) is a twentysomething trying to find her passion in life, while Gary Valentine (Cooper Hoffman) is a teen actor who’s struggling in show business because puberty hit hard. Throughout a series of vignettes, they get to know one another better and experience the craziness of life in the San Fernando Valley.
Haim, a musician making her acting debut, is a natural movie star from the opening scene. Hoffman (son of frequent Anderson collaborator Philip Seymour Hoffman) not only bears a striking resemblance to his late father; he also inherited his talent as an actor. The two are radiant in their scenes together, exhibiting a remarkable chemistry. There’s also a hilarious performance from Bradley Cooper that puts him in the running for Best Supporting Actor, even though he’s only in the movie for about 10 minutes. Most characters are so fun to hang out with that I could’ve sat through an even longer cut of the film.
Licorice Pizza isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, however. Some viewers have reacted negatively to the central relationship, which makes sense considering Gary is 15 and Alana says she’s 25. However, she tells him immediately that she’s not interested in a romantic relationship – which he mostly respects, although he continues to pursue her in mostly non-creepy ways. In fact, they don’t even share a kiss until the final scene, which takes place after an undetermined amount of time has passed. It’s also implied a few times throughout the film that Alana might have exaggerated her age somewhat.
Another uncomfortable subplot involves a minor character (played by veteran character actor John Michael Higgins) who burns through Japanese trophy wives and speaks to them in a blatantly racist accent. These brief scenes are played for shock value and uncomfortable laughs, so they’ve understandably drawn some controversy.
While I would never defend the character’s actions, Anderson’s decision to depict these moments keeps the story from succumbing to nostalgia overload; it shows the time period, while often romanticized in pop culture (including this film), had substantial conflicts that are often glossed over in coming-of-age romantic comedies. The director doesn’t provide such an easy escape valve for his audience. His goal is to make us sit there in our discomfort until we understand the point he’s trying to make.
Still, most viewers who go into the film with an open mind will find plenty to enjoy. Whether you’re a fan of romcoms, tributes to classic Hollywood, beautiful cinematography, outstanding production design, or a host of other mise-en-scene elements, Anderson has you covered. It’s easily the most accessible movie he’s ever made and has the potential to become his biggest commercial hit (ongoing pandemic notwithstanding).
Don’t get me wrong: There Will Be Blood is a literal masterpiece and Boogie Nights is a blast, but those aren’t exactly movies I’d recommend to my parents. I won’t have the same issue with Licorice Pizza – it’s the kind of flick anyone who grew up in the ’60s and ’70s should love.
Although it will likely open slowly over the next few weeks, this one is worth seeking out and seeing on the big screen (as long as you take the proper safety precautions, of course). It’s one of my favorite movies of the year and – spoiler alert – is guaranteed to show up somewhere in my Top 10 column next week.
Licorice Pizza is rated R for language, sexual material and some drug use. Opens in theaters on December 24.
Grade: A
His love letter to 1970s California has a much different plot than Cameron Crowe’s magnum opus Almost Famous, but it definitely feels like his take on similar themes. That includes how he utilizes bizarre humor, eccentric characters, a ton of heart and an incredible soundtrack.
The episodic story revolves around two oddballs becoming friends and falling in love. Alana Kane (Alana Haim) is a twentysomething trying to find her passion in life, while Gary Valentine (Cooper Hoffman) is a teen actor who’s struggling in show business because puberty hit hard. Throughout a series of vignettes, they get to know one another better and experience the craziness of life in the San Fernando Valley.
Haim, a musician making her acting debut, is a natural movie star from the opening scene. Hoffman (son of frequent Anderson collaborator Philip Seymour Hoffman) not only bears a striking resemblance to his late father; he also inherited his talent as an actor. The two are radiant in their scenes together, exhibiting a remarkable chemistry. There’s also a hilarious performance from Bradley Cooper that puts him in the running for Best Supporting Actor, even though he’s only in the movie for about 10 minutes. Most characters are so fun to hang out with that I could’ve sat through an even longer cut of the film.
Licorice Pizza isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, however. Some viewers have reacted negatively to the central relationship, which makes sense considering Gary is 15 and Alana says she’s 25. However, she tells him immediately that she’s not interested in a romantic relationship – which he mostly respects, although he continues to pursue her in mostly non-creepy ways. In fact, they don’t even share a kiss until the final scene, which takes place after an undetermined amount of time has passed. It’s also implied a few times throughout the film that Alana might have exaggerated her age somewhat.
Another uncomfortable subplot involves a minor character (played by veteran character actor John Michael Higgins) who burns through Japanese trophy wives and speaks to them in a blatantly racist accent. These brief scenes are played for shock value and uncomfortable laughs, so they’ve understandably drawn some controversy.
While I would never defend the character’s actions, Anderson’s decision to depict these moments keeps the story from succumbing to nostalgia overload; it shows the time period, while often romanticized in pop culture (including this film), had substantial conflicts that are often glossed over in coming-of-age romantic comedies. The director doesn’t provide such an easy escape valve for his audience. His goal is to make us sit there in our discomfort until we understand the point he’s trying to make.
Still, most viewers who go into the film with an open mind will find plenty to enjoy. Whether you’re a fan of romcoms, tributes to classic Hollywood, beautiful cinematography, outstanding production design, or a host of other mise-en-scene elements, Anderson has you covered. It’s easily the most accessible movie he’s ever made and has the potential to become his biggest commercial hit (ongoing pandemic notwithstanding).
Don’t get me wrong: There Will Be Blood is a literal masterpiece and Boogie Nights is a blast, but those aren’t exactly movies I’d recommend to my parents. I won’t have the same issue with Licorice Pizza – it’s the kind of flick anyone who grew up in the ’60s and ’70s should love.
Although it will likely open slowly over the next few weeks, this one is worth seeking out and seeing on the big screen (as long as you take the proper safety precautions, of course). It’s one of my favorite movies of the year and – spoiler alert – is guaranteed to show up somewhere in my Top 10 column next week.
Licorice Pizza is rated R for language, sexual material and some drug use. Opens in theaters on December 24.
Grade: A
Reach out to Josh Sewell on Twitter @IAmJoshSewell
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