That line is first uttered by aging game show host Jimmy Gator (Philip Baker Hall) in Paul Thomas Anderson's epic character study `Magnolia.' Hall's character is the first of several to make this loose and indicative religious quote in `Magnolia,' a film so emotionally complex, alarmingly twisting, and arrestingly original that it should be marked as the last truly great film of the 1990's.
Pinning down a two-sentence summary of the plot is almost impossible for a three-hour opus of this magnitude. It is seemingly plot-less and runs on and on, without any real inevitable `goal' associated with most films. It's basically (and I use that term as loosely as possible) an exercise in following a group of people living in the San Fernando Valley and absorbing all the love, loss, regret, and wants that they're experiencing. As mundane as that appears, `Magnolia' is so inventive that it towers to become much, much more than it sounds.
Being a movie with many diverse characters, it includes a very fine-tuned ensemble cast. Among the characters are those trying to give their compassion and help the helpless in a heartless society, like police officer Jim Kurring (John C. Reilly, in a flawless performance) and caregiver Phil Parma (Philip Seymour Hoffman). There are those who are trying to find some basic respect in life, like Stanley Spector (Jeremy Blackman), the 10-year-old prodigy of a kid's quiz show called `What Do Kids Know?' and Donnie Smith (William H. Macy), a former contestant of the very same quiz show who has gradually become a spineless has-been who's place in life is obsolete.
There are those who are at death's door and fighting to redeem a life full of lies and failure, such as wealthy television producer Earl Partridge (Jason Robards, looking quite dead) and Jimmy Gator, the troubled host of the aforementioned quiz show. There are also characters who feel lost in their own pasts, like Claudia Gator (Melora Walters, in a startling breakout), a burnout cocaine addict who is so shattered and trapped in her own history that she instinctively shuns almost anyone who tries to introduce love into her life. There are wives who parallel each other; one, Linda Partridge (Julianne Moore), having a change of heart about her dying husband; the other, Rose Gator (Melinda Dillon), blissfully unaware of her husband's infidelity.
And there is Frank `T.J.' Mackie (Tom Cruise, in the most limitless role of his career). Frank is a sleazebag who teaches seminars to men in hotel ballrooms on how to `seduce and destroy' any woman they want; the amount of initial ambition and pretension in the character is scary.
On top of these main players, there are yet more. These characters do not belong to the story, they are the story. The film opens with a surreal examination of chance, a theme that sets us up for the series of occurrences and collisions that take place between all these people in the day the film takes place.
It would be criminal to go into the film in any more detail, for the turmoil, psychological manipulation, and powerful sequences it holds need to be experienced first-hand. Seemingly owing something to Robert Altman's 1993 L.A. study `Short Cuts,' the elements of divine intervention, dread, desperation and care in `Magnolia' make it a much different and much more affecting work.
Director, writer, and producer Paul Thomas Anderson is emerging as one of the most creative and articulate forces in Hollywood. The 29-year-old one-man-army behind `Boogie Nights' and the overlooked film noir `Hard Eight' pieces together something flawless out of what seems like nothing special. Anderson seems to have a knack for building impressive, cohesive ensemble casts, and this is certainly no exception. He takes bold, unapologetic chances with the writing, chances that pay off. Anderson also develops a very distinct style with `Magnolia;' the pace of the film seems very urgent, like a friend rushing to tell you some grand payoff of a story but patient enough to let all the subtle, creeping details sink in.
A very compelling element of the film is the soundtrack, almost all of which is tackled by the brilliant songwriter Aimee Mann and her sometimes-producer Jon Brion. Mann's sharp music lends a stunning vulnerability to the story, but Anderson is not content at just dropping songs into his film for atmosphere. Mann's songs actually helped Anderson to compose some of the characters in the story, and several songs are used to very poignant and unique effect at key points in the film; just another innovative step `Magnolia' takes towards cinematic perfection.
Other critics may point out that `Magnolia,' clocking in at almost three hours, is too long, too vague, too pointless, or too unorganized to even bother with. Yes, it is long, but it feels like the film would be much less if it had scurried along to complete some evident purpose as fast as it could. It helps that it does not have some set course to travel along either; we can't see where it's going or even why at points, and if we could it would surely be a less interesting journey. Not one scene seems boring or out of place, partly because of the life and blind audacity that the cast leaps into their respective roles with, partly because Anderson throws us into a world we are a little familiar with and a lot more confused and curious with.
Paul Thomas Anderson has said that after the critical success his breakout `Boogie Nights' was, he wanted to just cut loose and make a three-hour epic about whatever he wanted to make a three-hour epic about, develop unrelated characters who unexpectedly relate, and throw a bunch of Aimee Mann songs in it, just because the studio now gave him the power to do so. Somehow, that blunt description evolved into the towering, psychological, profound, brutally bold work of art and reflection of life that is called `Magnolia.'
Pinning down a two-sentence summary of the plot is almost impossible for a three-hour opus of this magnitude. It is seemingly plot-less and runs on and on, without any real inevitable `goal' associated with most films. It's basically (and I use that term as loosely as possible) an exercise in following a group of people living in the San Fernando Valley and absorbing all the love, loss, regret, and wants that they're experiencing. As mundane as that appears, `Magnolia' is so inventive that it towers to become much, much more than it sounds.
Being a movie with many diverse characters, it includes a very fine-tuned ensemble cast. Among the characters are those trying to give their compassion and help the helpless in a heartless society, like police officer Jim Kurring (John C. Reilly, in a flawless performance) and caregiver Phil Parma (Philip Seymour Hoffman). There are those who are trying to find some basic respect in life, like Stanley Spector (Jeremy Blackman), the 10-year-old prodigy of a kid's quiz show called `What Do Kids Know?' and Donnie Smith (William H. Macy), a former contestant of the very same quiz show who has gradually become a spineless has-been who's place in life is obsolete.
There are those who are at death's door and fighting to redeem a life full of lies and failure, such as wealthy television producer Earl Partridge (Jason Robards, looking quite dead) and Jimmy Gator, the troubled host of the aforementioned quiz show. There are also characters who feel lost in their own pasts, like Claudia Gator (Melora Walters, in a startling breakout), a burnout cocaine addict who is so shattered and trapped in her own history that she instinctively shuns almost anyone who tries to introduce love into her life. There are wives who parallel each other; one, Linda Partridge (Julianne Moore), having a change of heart about her dying husband; the other, Rose Gator (Melinda Dillon), blissfully unaware of her husband's infidelity.
And there is Frank `T.J.' Mackie (Tom Cruise, in the most limitless role of his career). Frank is a sleazebag who teaches seminars to men in hotel ballrooms on how to `seduce and destroy' any woman they want; the amount of initial ambition and pretension in the character is scary.
On top of these main players, there are yet more. These characters do not belong to the story, they are the story. The film opens with a surreal examination of chance, a theme that sets us up for the series of occurrences and collisions that take place between all these people in the day the film takes place.
It would be criminal to go into the film in any more detail, for the turmoil, psychological manipulation, and powerful sequences it holds need to be experienced first-hand. Seemingly owing something to Robert Altman's 1993 L.A. study `Short Cuts,' the elements of divine intervention, dread, desperation and care in `Magnolia' make it a much different and much more affecting work.
Director, writer, and producer Paul Thomas Anderson is emerging as one of the most creative and articulate forces in Hollywood. The 29-year-old one-man-army behind `Boogie Nights' and the overlooked film noir `Hard Eight' pieces together something flawless out of what seems like nothing special. Anderson seems to have a knack for building impressive, cohesive ensemble casts, and this is certainly no exception. He takes bold, unapologetic chances with the writing, chances that pay off. Anderson also develops a very distinct style with `Magnolia;' the pace of the film seems very urgent, like a friend rushing to tell you some grand payoff of a story but patient enough to let all the subtle, creeping details sink in.
A very compelling element of the film is the soundtrack, almost all of which is tackled by the brilliant songwriter Aimee Mann and her sometimes-producer Jon Brion. Mann's sharp music lends a stunning vulnerability to the story, but Anderson is not content at just dropping songs into his film for atmosphere. Mann's songs actually helped Anderson to compose some of the characters in the story, and several songs are used to very poignant and unique effect at key points in the film; just another innovative step `Magnolia' takes towards cinematic perfection.
Other critics may point out that `Magnolia,' clocking in at almost three hours, is too long, too vague, too pointless, or too unorganized to even bother with. Yes, it is long, but it feels like the film would be much less if it had scurried along to complete some evident purpose as fast as it could. It helps that it does not have some set course to travel along either; we can't see where it's going or even why at points, and if we could it would surely be a less interesting journey. Not one scene seems boring or out of place, partly because of the life and blind audacity that the cast leaps into their respective roles with, partly because Anderson throws us into a world we are a little familiar with and a lot more confused and curious with.
Paul Thomas Anderson has said that after the critical success his breakout `Boogie Nights' was, he wanted to just cut loose and make a three-hour epic about whatever he wanted to make a three-hour epic about, develop unrelated characters who unexpectedly relate, and throw a bunch of Aimee Mann songs in it, just because the studio now gave him the power to do so. Somehow, that blunt description evolved into the towering, psychological, profound, brutally bold work of art and reflection of life that is called `Magnolia.'