
I loved Magnolia from the minute that flower opened on the first drum beat. I took days to puzzle it out, and when I had it unlocked I loved it even more.
Now I find the performances (and sadly, the direction*) pretty mannered, but I've got a sweet spot for the sing-a-long, and it will be fun to write about. I still know what it means, after all.
::
The Hurt Locker was forthcoming enough to give up it's meaning in the first ten letters on the screen: war is a drug. Magnolia makes you wait through nine whole words...
One is the loneliest number that has ever been.
...before it tells you what it's all about:
Two can be as bad as one, it's the loneliest number since the number one.
Cue drums, cue story, unfolding like a multi-faceted flower all over the San Fernando valley. I know it seems counter-intuitive that two would be lonely, but Aimee Mann seemed pretty sure and I think we need to look at the possibility.
Turns out, two can be lonely because of a failure to communicate. And this is true! Often, we don't communicate the very thing we need to say to the very person we need to hear it. Instead we throw these vital messages at strangers in outbursts that don't make sense, while to our loved ones we are scared to say what we most should.
Now, just off my head, without having seen the movie is many years, allow me to exampalize:**
Linda can't express to Earl that she loves him because she's freaking out. The druggists misunderstand who she's buying the painkillers for and she is unable to communicate to them what she's really going through.
Earl tries to communicate with his son, Tom (he's always Tom) but misses the chance, leaving Tom to pour out his heart to his dying father only after Earl can no longer hear or respond.
Jimmy Gator and his daughter Claudia can't communicate - Donnie can't let the bartender know how much he loves him - the child genius can't even tell someone he has to pee.
And consider Phil, the nurse, who orders Hustler from Pink Dot (because he needs to find an advertisement for Tom's seminars, so he can contact him for Earl) and the operator thinks he's a prevert.
Failed attempts at communication are all over this movie, big ones and little ones, and most of the time they splatter out like weeping Tom, or Donnie shouting nonsensically in the bar or Linda doing the same in the pharmacy.
In fact, there are only two pairs who share real communication in the whole film. The first is short lived- Earl and Phil speak in fast, private, warm exchanges that Linda and Tom can only yearn for until Earl fades away. And of course, Claudia and Officer Jim are both so off their games that they accidentally fall into real communication at dinner. This is terrifying to them both, because they live in a world where this almost never happens.
So there's a little optimism here, which can be seen again in the sing-along. Two can be as bad as one, but it doesn't always have to be; and we are all in sync and in tune, even if we don't know it.
Then there's the frogs. You didn't get the frogs? I hate to say "exactly", but this one really calls for it. The frogs are a massive, splattering outburst of attempted communication that totally fails, just like everything else. You may choose to see it as a failed communication happening within the story, between the characters and a newly introduced character of God, but I'm going to get meta.
To me, the frogs are P.T. Anderson's attempt at communicating with you, the audience, and you, the audience, don't get it. In other words, the metaphor works because the metaphor fails - which is a pretty wild idea. He's actually working a huge metaphor into his movie that only functions because he knows that people won't have any idea what his movie is about in the first place, so they're never going to know. The couple of us who do get it (days later, in my case) will be like Claudia and Officer Jim - it doesn't hurt the metaphor to have a precious few successful connections of understanding. Still, the metaphor as a whole only works because people usually don't ever figure out what a movie really means.
Which is why it's a good thing you have me.
* And now that they've given him an Oscar for it he'll never break the habit, and we might lose a great talent to the cold pursuit of perfection. The one lesson he didn't take from Altman is the most important: let it be alive! C'mon Paul! Punch Drunk Love!
** Perfectly cromulent word.


