Inherent Vice

As is to be expected from Anderson, this is a deeply peculiar, defiantly eccentric work - and it's beguiling because of it.

The film has this constant ethereal vibe which is far more effective at conjuring up a mood of a perpetually stoned character than the typical goofball, crude tomfoolery that typically make up the 'stoner comedy' genre (although there are some hilariously crude gags here, not least the most ridiculous brothel ever visited in a film). That dreamy, surreal and unhinged vibe is the very lifeblood of the film. It's in Newsom's strange, mystical narration, enhanced by subtly disorientating editing that constantly raises questions about whether Sortilège is actually even present or not. It's in the soundtrack, constantly slipping between diegetic and non-diegetic music, and songs that rarely cut off when you expect them to (some continue on through several different scenes entirely, again disrupting the audience's comfort zones). It's in the visuals, which benefit tremendously from that distinctly moody, shadowy celluloid look (for the love of god if you're in Dublin see it in 35mm - even looking at the trailer you can tell this is a film designed for actual film). This is a film of near constant foginess, and that's perfect for a film that resists clarity at every turn.

The themes and emotions, too, are in constant flux, reluctant to settle on simple answers. Scenes can be riotously funny while at the same time unnervingly melancholic and sombre (an increasingly trippy visit to a dentist's office, for example, or the typically love/hate dynamics between Doc and Bigfoot). It is a film that is both a love letter to film noir and 60s-70s Hollywood cinema, but also a critique of the same and a call for more forward-thinking filmmaking (timely given the amount of uninspired genre pastiches being released these days). Right up until the ending - a scene which serves as something of a triumph for the protagonist, but a costly and potentially shallow one - it's a film that rejects the temptation of easy, definite emotional payoffs in favour of something that's richer and more intriguing. There's a scene where two characters debate whether a tattoo is a Nazi swastika or a Buddhist one - it's a funny scene, but also a succinct summary of a film that invites, maybe even dares multiple readings.

As the plot knowingly descends into nonsense and Anderson takes his damn time (thank you very much) letting scenes play out, there can be moments of unease, uncertainty and even frustration. There are definitely immediate pleasures, but it's a film that almost hits hardest as the credits roll and you're left reflecting on a difficult but fascinating film. Inherent Vice is not always an easy film, but it's perhaps a great one.