With the wild acclaim of “One Battle After Another,” the brilliant filmmaker Paul Thomas Anderson is on every cinephile’s mind. Here’s my ranking of his stellar filmography.
10. Inherent Vice
This is the only Paul Thomas Anderson film I’m negative on. The last of Anderson’s films shot by the magnificent Robert Elswit, “Inherent Vice” excels as a dreamlike visual malaise. From the opening shot and warm narration, Anderson and Elswit instantly make the audience adore 1970s Los Angeles as much as they do. There’s also some hilarious ’80s-style raunchy comedy here, expertly delivered by Joaquin Phoenix and especially Hong Chau in a brilliant cameo. Yet the film fails to coalesce into a powerful whole. The story is deliberately confusing and that filmmaking methodology never works for me. I find none of the characters or the central mystery all that engaging. Its excessive runtime and befuddling plot hinder any rewatchability. Ultimately “Inherent Vice” feels borderline insignificant in comparison to the rest of Anderson’s filmography.
9. Hard Eight (AKA Sydney)
“Hard Eight” is a quintessential debut film, a training ground for later masterpieces. It’s well made, has a few great scenes, and a mind-blowing third act revelation, but it very much feels like a director getting their feet wet. Like “Inherent Vice,” this film feels somewhat unremarkable. The formulaic structure makes it difficult to discuss the film beyond the simple phrase, “it’s fine.”
8. The Master
This is perhaps Paul Thomas Anderson’s most divisive work, and for good reason. On a technical level, it’s truly masterful. That boat shot (pictured above) is one of the greatest images in cinematic history. Joaquin Phoenix and Philip Seymour Hoffman deliver their career-best performances, playing two profoundly manipulative characters who are both deranged in their own unique ways, implied to be a result of postwar experiences. The processing exchange between the two of them, held in one long over-the-shoulder shot on Joaquin Phoenix’s seemingly exploding face, is some of the greatest performing you’ll ever see. However, the film is also deeply pretentious, almost deliberately messy, and sluggish throughout the second half. Anderson’s script is completely aimless and none of the characters face any real development that would justify the lack of story, so ultimately you’re left dangling on the thread of wonderful performances and camerawork. I think the film is a lot less profound than many proclaim it to be, and whatever themes it may contain fail to be elucidated.
7. One Battle After Another
On a technical level, “One Battle After Another” is immaculate. The VistaVision cinematography makes every frame a canvas, with boisterous color as expressive as the technicolor epics of the 1950s. None of this is to say every frame is a painting; on the contrary, much of the film is simply subtle close-ups and medium shots. What’s truly impressive is how Anderson always knows precisely when to use simplistic, story-serving images and enormous, breathtaking vistas to complement the propulsion. Speaking of which, this is one of the most well-edited blockbusters in recent years. This thing just moves from scene to scene, shot to shot, frame to frame. This is all to say: the movie’s a ton of fun.
However, when you remove the entertainment factor, “One Battle After Another” is deeply problematic. This is not a left-wing or right-wing issue, it is an issue of positively portraying violence. I simply cannot get behind Anderson’s choice to sympathize with domestic terrorists, no matter the side of the political spectrum. Obviously the fascist, racist military depicted in the film is despicable, but what about the several scenes of the supposed protagonists blowing up buildings and shooting innocent civilians? So while I found the film to be immensely fun, I cannot ignore my moral quams.
6. Magnolia
Anderson wanted to combine the Hollywood Epic with the Hollywood Melodrama in this three-hour behemoth and, despite several false notes, he generally pulls it off. Films with massive ensembles and parallel stories often fall into the trap of one story or one character being far less interesting than another, but impressively Anderson writes all of them to be equally fascinating. There’s so much soul, tragedy, and empathy within each, and this great humanity ties the film together beautifully, alongside meticulous editing that maintains perpetual momentum. The film never feels boring, which is another impressive feat. However, I do think the constant breakdowns and monologues and revelations become monotonous, and when literally every character is crying, each subsequent tear loses significance.
5. Licorice Pizza
Paul Thomas Anderson’s most whimsical picture, “Licorice Pizza” may not be as epic or historic as many of his other films, but it’s one of his most fun. This is an earned romance with clearly drawn leads and some of Anderson’s finest dialogue. The conversations simultaneously feel so organic and deliberately rhythmic. Alongside the dialogue, the joyous backdrop of the 1970s San Fernando Valley dear to Anderson brings so much intimacy and soul to an already wholesome story. Plus, the backwards-moving truck sequence is perhaps the most suspenseful filmmaking of Anderson’s career. The plot sometimes meanders and there’s an excessive reliance on vibe over story, but ultimately this is such a warm movie that’s always a blast to immerse oneself in.
4. Boogie Nights
It’s odd to have “Boogie Nights,” an unmitigated classic, at the number four slot, but when you’re discussing one of cinema’s greatest artists, the top spots are extraordinarily competitive. At just 27 years old Anderson demonstrated instant mastery at his craft. Though he borrows a little too much from Martin Scorsese and Robert Altman, his technical direction is absolutely astounding; the long takes give the film a wonderful energy, perfectly placed at moments of character struggle or nail-biting tension. Yes, the opening oner through the nightclub is quite impressive, but the camera holding on Julianne Moore during Amber Waves’ custody litigation and the 40-second close-up of Mark Wahlberg’s Dirk Diggler at the drug dealer’s house are even more stunning. Anderson likewise established himself as one of the great actors’ directors, with Moore, Wahlberg, Burt Reynolds, and Heather Graham all delivering the most layered performances of their careers.
Anderson brilliantly builds this sprawling world of 1970s/80s Hollywood pornography with a wild cast of characters and a thoroughly fleshed out exploration of the inner-workings of the industry, as well as the damage it levies upon those who enter it. Though the environment is initially exciting to dive into, as the film progresses we see just how destructive and vile the industry really is. There’s impeccable tonal juggling here, shifting from screwball comedy to dour tragedy. Plus, perhaps no film has as many pitch-perfect character names: Dirk Diggler, Jack Horner, Amber Waves, Reed Rothchild, Buck Swope, Rollergirl, Little Bill. Just astounding creativity across the board. What holds this film back for me is the ending: I’ve never liked the final few minutes. The resolution for Dirk’s character seems too easy, as if Anderson didn’t quite know how to complete the character arc and just decided to place him back where he was at the one-hour mark.
3. Phantom Thread
Anderson’s arthouse and character-driven sensibilities collide to craft one of the most elegant and addicting films ever made. This may be Anderson’s most visually breathtaking movie, with each shot having the right balance of gloss and deep, flourishing color. It also contains his best dialogue, by far. Every scene contains at least one all-time quotable line, each sharp as a squirt of lemon juice in the eye as Daniel Day-Lewis’ Reynolds Woodcock complains about the world around him failing to meet his obsessive compulsive expectations of perfection. “Chic? Whoever invented that ought to be spanked in public!” “Right now, I’m admiring my own gallantry at eating it the way you’ve prepared it.” “The tea is leaving. The interruption is staying right here with me.” I can spitfire these for a whole page. The constant visual splendor mixed with hilariously vicious arguments make for a tremendous thrill ride that one wouldn’t traditionally expect out of a “dress” movie. Perhaps that’s because the film is about poisonous relationships and asparagus rather than fashion.
2. There Will Be Blood
Daniel Day-Lewis delivers the single greatest performance in cinematic history as psychopathic oilman Daniel Plainview. While “There Will Be Blood” is not my favorite PTA, there’s no denying that it’s his signature film. This is the Paul Thomas Anderson picture. And for good reason: it’s the finest American epic of the 21st century, a reminder of the brilliant grand scale character dissections of the 1970s. “There Will Be Blood” is one of those very few films that are truly iconic staples in cinema history. Its exploration of capitalism eclipsing religion as the driving force of America, Biblical and Shakespearean betrayals, and astounding set pieces exemplify filmmaking at its finest. Normally a film this significant would take the top spot on any other director’s list, but Anderson has one movie that I feel is even more powerful.
1. Punch-Drunk Love
My third-favorite film of all time, the surrealist “Punch-Drunk Love” is Paul Thomas Anderson’s finest work. Adam Sandler stars as Barry Egan, a depressed businessman desperately afraid of interpersonal interactions. When Barry meets Lena Leonard (Emily Watson), he finally experiences love and gains confidence. “Punch-Drunk Love” equates anger and intimacy, adding danger to sensuality while also being oddly heartwarming. Sandler is absolutely brilliant in his subtle and career-best performance of a man so lonely that he’s become an inactive volcano, meek and timid but boiling with rage. He subtly expresses so much repression, so much pain, so much self-loathing with a mere twist of his head or jolt of his hand. Anderson’s direction is some of the best work I’ve ever seen, using sonic and visual devices to externalize Barry’s emotions onto the screen. Sonically, Jon Brion’s electronic beeping score could not be more anxiety-inducing, acting as Barry’s internal monologue whenever stressed, whereas the use of the song “He Needs Me” externalizes Barry’s happiness when feeling comforted by Lena. Visually, “Punch-Drunk Love” utilizes color better than possibly any other film. The consistent contrast between blue and red portrays the battle between loneliness and companionship in every frame. As Brion’s score, Anderson’s deliberate aesthetics, and Sandler’s Oscar-worthy performance collide, “Punch-Drunk Love” delivers an immaculate exploration of the human need for love.