The Complexity of “The Master”

The Master, directed by Paul Thomas Anderson, you know, the genius behind There Will Be Blood, is the kind of film that leaves you… well, a bit pensive. It’s this sprawling meditation on human connection, set against the backdrop of post-war America. You got Joaquin Phoenix in probably one of his intense roles, playing Freddie Quell—a man so tattered and lost, you almost feel the scent of his desperation. And then there’s the enigmatic Philip Seymour Hoffman as Lancaster Dodd. The chemistry between them is electric. So, grab your kanelbulle, folks, ’cause there’s a lot to unpack.

Now, I watched this film on a Monday evening, way back in 2012, at some small theatre in Södermalm. I remember cuz I’d just broken up with my then-girlfriend. Thought the film would be a distraction. Boy, was I wrong! Instead of comfort, it pulled me into this whirlwind of emotions. Maybe it was the lingering loneliness of post-breakup, but Phoenix’s portrayal felt raw, a bit too personal. Like, you ever look at art that sees right through ya? Yeah, that was it.

But don’t get me started on the cinematography. Seriously, it’s gorgeous—those sweeping landscapes that remind you of a Bergman film yet distinctly American. And Jonny Greenwood’s score, haunting and mesmerizing.

Honestly, the narrative can be a bit elusive at times. One moment you’re in this deep philosophical convo, and the next, you’re wondering if you missed something. It’s like assembling an IKEA Billy bookcase without instructions. But that’s kinda the point, ain’t it? Life’s messy, perplexing… weirdly beautiful too.

It’s one of those films that sneaks up on you days after you’ve watched it. Like the taste of knäckebröd lingering long after breakfast. Maybe not everyone’s cup of tea, but if you’re up for a challenge—you know, get your existentialist groove on—it’s worth the ride.

Check the trailer below