Philip Seymour Hoffman, Joaquin Phoenix give mesmerizing performances 
Director Paul Thomas Anderson always makes big complex films, the kind of films that strive to reveal truths that are often thought but never spoken.
His quest to study the American psyche has led him to make great films like "There Will Be Blood," "Punch Drunk Love" and "Magnolia." His latest film, "The Master," gives insight into the concept of blind obedience in the form of faith and a warped dependence that comes with the master and apprentice relationship.
There have been reports, and even an acknowledgement by Anderson, that certain aspects of the film were inspired by L. Ron Hubbard and the founding of Scientology. What the film has to say about the film's pseudo-religious leader may indeed upset Scientologists, but the movie is more about the acolyte than the master.
Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) is a World War II veteran discharged after being diagnosed with a nervous disorder. He drifts through life staring at an uncertain future, constantly displaying extremely erratic behavior. He loses one job after another, has an obsessive fantasy with naked women and makes his own blend of alcohol mixed with torpedo fuel and paint thinner.
He's a lost sheep who eventually finds the shepherd that is Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman), the head of a pseudo-religious following called The Cause, where he uses a sort-of hypnotherapeutic style of interrogation that helps his followers come to terms with their past lives.
The movie then becomes focused on Freddie and Lancaster's relationship, which becomes symbolic of man's desire to find the answers to life through faith as Anderson delves into the nature of leaders and followers. Freddie is a drifter trying to find purpose; Lancaster looks to take advantage in order to exert control over Freddie. But Freddie's inability to completely change also represents a flaw in Lancaster's hypnotic process.
Anderson seems to have something to say about the notion of cult-like gatherings and perhaps religion in general. The final scene especially seems to reveal the movie's overall message about religious following: that people can find true happiness when they aren't obliged to follow a charismatic leader.
But this is an assumption made from just one viewing of "The Master." As with most of Anderson's films, the movie could require multiple viewings in order to fully appreciate the film's messages.
With its controversial subject matter, "The Master" is not always easy for audiences to watch, but they will anyway because the photography is absolutely gorgeous from the very first shot: we see an endless, roiling ocean that is indicative of Freddie's restless soul.
But the real mesmerizing experience is the cinematography, as the film was shot using 70 mm format, which allows for richer, dream-like colors and a greater detailed picture.
The cinematography especially helps us invest in the two lead characters, especially with the one-on-one sequences between the two. The close-up shots keep our attention on the interactions between these two and shut everything else out, making certain scenes, like Dobb's processing of Freddie, all the more engaging.
Anderson continues to show his fondness for writing about damaged men. With his portrayal of the erratic Freddie, Phoenix gives the performance of his life. He gets lost in it with his curled lips and slouched frame, a total transformation into a grimace of pain, suffering and vulgar thoughts. During the scene where Lancaster questions him about his mental and philosophical state, we immediately start believing Freddie's persona.
This movie is yet another collaboration between Hoffman and Amy Adams ("Doubt"). Hoffman is elegant in a debonair moustache as the charismatic Lancaster, a man who's equal parts charlatan and salesman. He's calm and collected with his religious techniques, but when questioned about something in the faith, he lets out quick bursts of anger.
Adams's character, Lancaster's wife, probably won't get much mention in discussions about the film since she is practically stuck in the shadows, but her presence seems to suggest a theme about the status of women. She appears as a submissive wife with a deep belief in The Cause, but behind the scenes, wonder occurs about whether or not she is actually the puppeteer behind The Cause while Lancaster is the frontman.
There's really not much of a narrative to "The Master" because the thematic material is told more through character relations than story. It plays out like the chapters of a book or the acts of a play: the story constantly changes geography as the group moves from California to Arizona to New York to England.
The film asks plenty of questions, but doesn't exactly give us any answers. But perhaps that's what so masterful about Anderson. He asks questions about what really defines America and leaves us internally wanting to search for the answers.