{"id":162286,"date":"2026-06-26T08:00:14","date_gmt":"2026-06-26T12:00:14","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=162286"},"modified":"2026-06-25T22:57:03","modified_gmt":"2026-06-26T02:57:03","slug":"paul-thomas-anderson","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=162286","title":{"rendered":"“The films that I love are very straightforward stories, like really old-fashioned stuff.” — Paul Thomas Anderson"},"content":{"rendered":"

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\nThere are many good contemporary film-makers doing fascinating bold work but Paul Thomas Anderson is what you might call “touched”. What other filmmaker now would even dare to make something like Magnolia<\/i>? Who could even think that up? How was Magnolia<\/i> even possible? How did he do it? <\/p>\n

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\nThat entire lengthy section where everything is happening with every character simultaneously and he flows from one to the next to the next and the film doesn’t lose momentum – if anything it gains in momentum. And he does this with minimal dialogue. It’s more about rhythm, and music, and flow. That movie is insane. But then he can pull off something short and sweet (and sad) like Punch-Drunk Love<\/i>. I haven’t even mentioned the mighty There Will Be Blood<\/i>, another sui generis bizarro film, which doesn’t have a line of dialogue for the first half-hour. After which, it’s all talk-talk-talk. And … Upton Sinclair as your inspiration? Sign me up.<\/p>\n

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Anderson’s work excites me in a unique way, distinct from other filmmakers I love. My thought process is basically: “I can’t wait to see what he’s been ruminating about THIS time.” <\/p>\n

After all of his great ensemble films, he comes out with the gorgeous Phantom Thread<\/i>, a chamber piece, taking place in two locations only, featuring just three characters. I don’t know if I can put into words how much I love Phantom Thread<\/i>. Oh wait, yes I can: I wrote the cover story for Film Comment<\/i> on the film: <\/p>\n

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\nMy first cover story for them. I put my heart and soul into this one, because the romantic aspect of the film touched me so deeply and because much of the commentary about the film – about Woodcock’s “toxic masculinity” and the “predatory” age gap (enough already: she is an adult woman. She makes her own choices.) etc. seemed a willful missing of the point, a need to shoehorn something into the dominant narrative, even if it doesn’t fit.. The weird thing was (or, it wasn’t weird to me, just to others) was I didn’t “relate” to Alma (Vicki Krieps), the young woman falling in love with Reynolds Woodcock (Daniel Day-Lewis). I “related” to Woodcock, his rigidity, his staunch aloneness, his haunted nights, his desire for affection and yet his fear of it, his single-mindedness, and his damaged solitude. Love comes to him and it is difficult for him to bear it. He pushes it away. He is too fucked up. He can’t take it. And he NEEDS someone like Alma, to love him enough to stick around and wear him down. It’s fine if you don’t relate to that, but I fucking do. I’ve got a lot of bad road behind me. The assumption that women can only relate to women characters and men can only relate to men characters is not only not true but is irritatingly persistent and needs to be burned in the public square. There is no reason a man can’t see himself in a female character (I’d bet Window Boy<\/a> could relate to Alma. I was a TOUGH NUT.) There is no reason a woman can’t see herself in a male character. Hamlet? Hello. <\/p>\n

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\nHere’s my cover story: Love After a Fashion<\/a>. <\/p>\n

I also was a guest on the Film Comment<\/i> podcast<\/a>, to chat with Violet Lucca about the film.<\/p>\n

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\nI was so obsessed with Inherent Vice<\/i> I saw it three times in the movie theatre. Now, the best piece about the film, the one to read, is Kim Morgan’s at the New Beverly site<\/a>. Don’t miss it. She digs so deep into the film she enters into its maze.<\/p>\n

I wrote about it, too, although briefer, mainly adding on to what she already said. <\/p>\n

Here’s the first piece I wrote<\/a> and then … I wasn’t done, and decided to write a second piece<\/a>, about one shot in the film that reminded me of a photo in one of those Time-Life books from back in the day, and how I would put money down that PTA was referencing it. <\/p>\n

I also wrote about Licorice Pizza<\/i><\/a> for Ebert.<\/p>\n

I love his work dearly and cannot wait<\/i> for his next dispatch. <\/p>\n

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\nOne final thing: Marc Maron’s two-hour interview with him is a must-hear kind of thing. <\/p>\n

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