Okay, well, I think what I did not need to watch tonight was a tale about the "redemptive power of love".
Oh well, no matter.
This is what we call a "shift in gears". This is the movie you make AFTER you make the greatest movie of all time. A deceptively small movie, in both scope and running length (less than half of that of Magnolia), Punch-Drunk Love feels like Anderson winding down from his trip into the cinematic ether.
But it ain't no relaxing trip for the viewer, mind you. Every once in a while I'd check myself, and every time I did, I noticed two things about myself watching this movie:
1. I was smiling.
2. I was nervous.
Every single scene in this movie screams of poignant unease. You don't know whether to scream or eat a banana. You don't know whether to be happy to sad or scared or relaxed. You don't know if you're actually watching an Adam Sandler movie, or if it's some sick, depraved dream of yours.
One thing you DO know, though, is that P. T. is now officially the best director working in the business today, and the best writer/director that there's ever been.
Goddamn.
(****)
Punch-Drunk Love
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