Magnolia

Traditionally, film-makers are wary of coincidence and bizarre, unexplained events. And with good reason. For the lazier hack screenwriter these are convenient means of tying up messy plot holes. But as Fortean Times readers are only too well aware, such things happen all the time. Boogie Nights director Paul Thomas Anderson daringly turns this cinematic convention on its head in the extraordinary, sprawling, brilliant Magnolia, which it’s all-too-tempting to describe as Short Cuts on acid.

Like Altman’s masterpiece, this comprises a patchwork of funny and moving LA stories, many unfolding simultaneously, whose interconnections are often subtle and unexpected. A recurring theme is the relationship between fathers and their offspring; other elements explore the influence of the media on ordinary lives and the dissipation of childhood promise. But as the strands are drawn together in a shared astonishing climax, the film obstinately resists simple classification.

On his deathbed, wealthy, confused Earl Partridge’s (Jason Robards) last wish is to be re-united with his estranged son. His wife Linda (Julianne Moore), who married him for money, has realised that she’s fallen in love with the confused old coot, who’s raging against the dying of the light with every expletive the English language has to offer. Partridge’s well-meaning nurse (the ever-brilliant Philip Seymour Hoffman), meanwhile, attempts to effect that reconciliation. Quiz show host and traditional family values icon Jimmy Gator (Philip Baker Hall) tries to hold his unravelling life together as he tapes a show whose contestants include a deeply unhappy child prodigy. Donnie Smith (William H. Macy) knows what that feels like, as he too enjoyed his 15 minutes of glory back in the ‘60s but now barely clings to his job while he pathetically tries to pay for the cosmetic dentistry he’s convinced will finally bring him happiness. Across town, a strung-out, needy coke freak (Melora Walters) is clumsily wooed by big lunk cop Jim Kurring (John C. Reilly). And in a hall full of whooping men, charismatic macho guru Frank Mackey (Tom Cruise) dispenses surefire seduction tips with his mantra: “Respect the cock and tame the cunt!”

The late Roger Ebert argued, rightly, that 1999’s Magnolia belongs alongside the likes of Three Kings and Being John Malkovich in a new class of film-making championed by directors who refuse to “apologise for their exuberance or shield themselves with irony against suspicions of sincerity”.

It’s certainly difficult to imagine such films being made back in the dreary ‘80s and early ‘90s, when imaginations were hemmed in by lazy post-modernism and timid political correctness. Anderson takes enormous risks with his material, while coaxing brilliant performances from one of the best ensemble casts ever assembled. Amazingly, even in this exalted company, justly Oscar-nominated Tom Cruise is absolutely riveting as the cocksure misogynist whose mask eventually crumbles. Oh, and you also get to see him in the most bulging pair of pants since, well, Boogie Nights.

It’s back on screen in the ‘shed’s Paul Thomas Anderson on 35mm February brunch season to complement the release of Phantom Thread.