Magnolia.
Magnolia.
Magnolia.
For me, Paul Anderson has done quite a job at making this simple four-syllable word resonate in my ears, calling me to attention and slowly letting the indescribable mixture of emotions I feel every time I am exposed to this movie flood back in to my heart.
It's better than Short Cuts. It's better than Nashville. It's better than The Godfather. For whatever reason, the unique balances thrown into the making of this wonderful, exquisite, inescapable picture are better than any other movie ever assembled. That doesn't come from a place of melodrama, it comes from a place of gratitude. How else am I to accurately describe the *gratitude* I feel towards Mr. Anderson and this film in general? I sure haven't seen another that has left me in a near fetal position at the end, literally floored by the glowing synchronicity (music, editing, acting, directing, plot arcs, everything just BURSTS at the end and is left lying on the asphalt like dead frogs to the tune of "Save Me") of it all. The movie isn't just good, or great, or really, really great, it's perfect. It shines like polished gold in my mind, and whenever I run across clips of it on T.V. or on the internet, I feel the same overwhelming sense of gratitude towards the maker.
The critics of Magnolia claim that it's too long, or that it's too melodramatic, or it's too unrealistic, or that there is no point. They didn't want to see Tom Cruise talking about how to destroy women, they wanted to hear him talk about how to love women. The idea of a ten minute prologue that has no "names" infuriated the movie brats. To me, I feel that these people, these movie brats, have absolutely no idea what it means to sit in a theatre and watch a good movie. Those who wish to escape for ninety minutes walked out because, frankly, it's not every weekend that The Greatest Movie Ever Made comes out, and they just weren't ready to cope with the fact that they had to PAY ATTENTION for more than their alloted hour and a half. In short, there IS NO excuse to not like Magnolia, save for lack of attention span or willingness to understand that it is a work of fiction. It *is* relevant, it *is* true, it *is* real. It's not some little ditty that's going to be washed away from it's stature the next time an ensemble movie comes out.
No matter WHAT ANYONE SAYS, nothing (not critics, not time, not anything) will eeeever be able to change the fact that when it's all said and done, Magnolia is more emotionally and cinematically explosive than any other movie in history.
****************
Magnolia.
Magnolia.
For me, Paul Anderson has done quite a job at making this simple four-syllable word resonate in my ears, calling me to attention and slowly letting the indescribable mixture of emotions I feel every time I am exposed to this movie flood back in to my heart.
It's better than Short Cuts. It's better than Nashville. It's better than The Godfather. For whatever reason, the unique balances thrown into the making of this wonderful, exquisite, inescapable picture are better than any other movie ever assembled. That doesn't come from a place of melodrama, it comes from a place of gratitude. How else am I to accurately describe the *gratitude* I feel towards Mr. Anderson and this film in general? I sure haven't seen another that has left me in a near fetal position at the end, literally floored by the glowing synchronicity (music, editing, acting, directing, plot arcs, everything just BURSTS at the end and is left lying on the asphalt like dead frogs to the tune of "Save Me") of it all. The movie isn't just good, or great, or really, really great, it's perfect. It shines like polished gold in my mind, and whenever I run across clips of it on T.V. or on the internet, I feel the same overwhelming sense of gratitude towards the maker.
The critics of Magnolia claim that it's too long, or that it's too melodramatic, or it's too unrealistic, or that there is no point. They didn't want to see Tom Cruise talking about how to destroy women, they wanted to hear him talk about how to love women. The idea of a ten minute prologue that has no "names" infuriated the movie brats. To me, I feel that these people, these movie brats, have absolutely no idea what it means to sit in a theatre and watch a good movie. Those who wish to escape for ninety minutes walked out because, frankly, it's not every weekend that The Greatest Movie Ever Made comes out, and they just weren't ready to cope with the fact that they had to PAY ATTENTION for more than their alloted hour and a half. In short, there IS NO excuse to not like Magnolia, save for lack of attention span or willingness to understand that it is a work of fiction. It *is* relevant, it *is* true, it *is* real. It's not some little ditty that's going to be washed away from it's stature the next time an ensemble movie comes out.
No matter WHAT ANYONE SAYS, nothing (not critics, not time, not anything) will eeeever be able to change the fact that when it's all said and done, Magnolia is more emotionally and cinematically explosive than any other movie in history.
****************