CBF Review: The Master
I just don’t give a fuck about it.
Dat lack of profundity.
The Master is totally not about Scientology, you guize trollol. But it is. Joaquin “everybody’s forgotten about that dumb publicity stunt by now, I hope” Phoenix is a World War 2 veteran looking for direction. He finds it in Philip Seymour Hoffman (who has been ruined/improved for me by Very Mary Kate), an L Ron Hubbard photocopy. Blah blah blah Joaquin battles alcoholism and Hoff-dog’s unnecessarily bitchy wife (Amy Adams) on his road to…umm…enlightenment, I guess? The Other Hoff (ain’t no Hassel) battles the sane world of non-cultists. Eventually Hoffa finds a decent setup in England, and Joaquin goes in a separate direction, but having learned from his experiences.
I hate this movie because it doesn’t really go anywhere (I need some concrete resolutions, dammit. I’m not pretentious enough, which is ironic considering I’m a hateful hipster, to roll with esoteric mildness), Amy Adams’ character is a fucking psychopath towards Joaquin for no reason (at the end she makes a big scene about “Why would you even come to England to see us?” Umm, your husband fucking invited him), and Joaquin shows a reasonable amount of skepticism towards the cult’s crazy, but goes along with it anyway. At least Martha was dumb the whole way through.
You should watch because the acting was impeccable (as expected for Das Hoff and Joaquin), the cult stuff is engaging, despite how absurd it is (maybe you could have learned something, Cult), and Laura Dern was in it. Jurassic Park is my 2nd favourite movie of all time, yo.
Verdict: 2 out of 5 stars.
Seriously, that wife was a dick.