What shall we do with the drunken sailor?

Paul Thomas Anderson’s The Master is his first film since There Will Be Blood and although it stars Joaquin Phoenix and Philip Seymour Hoffman, who give two of the most blistering performances you will see for an unspecified time period — usually, the form is to say ‘this year’, but how do I know? I’m not psychic! — it is all so enigmatic and underwritten I felt rather shut out. A ‘challenging’ film is one thing, but one that actually slams the door in your face is quite another, as well as rude. Heck, I’m mother to a teenager and can stay at home if I want to be shut out and have doors slammed in my face. It’s a pity, though. Generally, I’m a fan of Mr Anderson, and his disturbing studies of souls in extremis, but this is a disappointment. I expect I’ll get over it, in time, but if you wish to send flowers and a card, then by all means please feel free to do so.