Magnolia: A

There comes a time in every filmmaker's career when they have to make a magnum opus, if only to grow or to survive in the competitive, award-hungry movie industry. Paul Thomas Anderson, who wrote-directed Magnolia, is a filmmaker that does nothing but makes magnum opus'. First Boogie Nights and now this? A movie that weaves at least 10 major characters together with at least as many story lines into an operatic visual of life at it's strangest and, oddly, most enjoyable.

There isn't enough space here to list all the cast but I'll give you the highlights: Julliane Moore (turning in another chillingly good performance) is the unhinged wife of a rich dying older man, Phillip Seymour Hoffman (amazing, as always) is the nurse for said man, Tom Cruise (in his craziest, darkest, most erratic, and playful role in - well - forever) plays a guru in the art of feminine seduction and control, and William H. Macy (the lamentable and heart-tugging actor that he is) is a former quiz-show kid with no life forced to watch, wait for it, a quiz show! There are more characters, be sure, and there are even stranger moments (i.e. a spontaneous sing-along featuring the whole of the cast, or the deus ex machina ending).

But the crowning jewel of Magnolia is not its perfectly acted characters, or its over the top writing, or its zany stories, or its shocking emotional impact, or its pro/epi-logue on chance and luck, itss the fact that it dares to be bigger (at 190 minutes) and better than 95% of all movies ever made. Paul Thomas Anderson has single-handedly managed to create an epic among his epics, a movie that is so amazing and operatic in it's ambition you can do litle more that watch, open-jawed.