I'm enjoying the discussion, and I feel almost reticent to add more of my own thoughts.
Personally, I still think the problem of the film is Freddie. I just don't see any growth or change in Freddie OR any growth or change around Freddie, as a result of Freddie or his conflicts. He's such a volatile loose cannon that even when he
goes to visit his lost love
I'm not sure that I see this as any more a sign of growth/change as a swing of his mood. Anderson hasn't filled in the gaps, so to speak, by showing gradual evolution.
An easy test to determine change in a character is if I could see Freddie doing the same actions at the beginning of the film as he does at the end of the film. And honestly, I could. A simple swig of that Lysol concoction could've given him the same courage he takes at the end.
I also reject the idea that Freddie changing throughout this script would represent a "phony" arc. Keep in mind that this story is episodic in nature and presumably takes place over years. I know, personally, I have changed and evolved as a person over the course of the past five years. I assume a lot of people do. I would charge that it's more "phony" that neither Freddie nor Dodd nor Lady Macbeth have changed at all in this time period.
While I do think this film would benefit from a more traditional arc, there are certainly ways to avoid a psychologizing character arc and still have an engaging film. I'll list a few that work for me but I'll make up my own terms for them since I'm not a screenwriting grad.
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Implied growth. For an example of implied growth, I think of the film Kore-eda's
Nobody Knows. In that film, four young children are abandoned and left to fend on their own. They gradually build their own nest and begin to fend for themselves. Then tragedy strikes towards the end. There is an implied coming-of-age that the children learned to fend for themselves materially and pragmatically. And when tragedy strikes, they've learned to fend for themselves emotionally, and then the film ends.
This is perhaps most similar to a traditional arc, but with a minimum of dialogue and focusing on a group of characters. There is no overt psychologizing, little dialogue, and a focus on a collective. Were the children capable of fending for themselves since the beginning of the film? It's possible, but the actions imply evolution.
The Master could work on this level, but I don't see Freddie's actions as implying any change. He beats up a character early. And then does it again later. He throws a tomato at someone speaking up against The Cause. Then roughs up the non-believing son later. He goes through a rough Processing early and is pleased with the results early. And then later, he does the same thing with the wall trick. His actions don't imply any growth or change. This is why I don't buy that he's a True Believer, either. Is he doing all this for The Cause or for the cause of friendship? Doesn't it matter?
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Peeling away layers. For this type of film, I think of a character that doesn't change themselves, yet the character is gradually revealed to the audience. The best example I can think of is Alonso's
Los Muertos. In that film, a man is released from prison. He gradually sheds his clothing, enters the wilderness, and shows his animalistic side. I don't believe he necessarily changes internally, but his actions reveal new information to the audience about what he might (or might not) have done to land himself in prison. It's an extremely meditative film, yet there is a gradual unveiling that is fascinating.
Ironically, this can also be argued as a similar revealing process for Daniel Plainview in The
re Will Be Blood in which it was successful. It's arguable how much that character actually changes and grows from being a bastard to a slightly-more disagreeable bastard, yet we learn about his relationship about his son, how he deals with competition and family, and how he ultimately wins and loses everything. Again, it's not necessarily a conventional arc, but it's new information for the audience.
I feel
The Master is primed for this type of film, given how impenetrable Freddie is at first, but, with the sole exception of his lost love, I don't believe there's anything underneath the surface. When you peel back layers of Freddie, you just get more Freddie.
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Actions writ large. Here, I think of a film like Pontecorvo's
Battle of Algiers. Way more than any character psychology or conventional arcs, we have two forces in history vying for the soul of a country. The characters' actions serve the greater narrative of history. And it's fascinating to see these actions play out on the grand stage.
Again,
The Master seems primed for this. Ironically again,
There Will Be Blood handled it quite well with the American battle/collusion dynamic between religion and capital. But with
The Master, there is no battle, no conflict. Freddie loves Dodd. Then leaves. Then he comes back. Then leaves. It's like that line from
Grand Hotel: "People come. People go. Nothing ever happens."
The actions aren't writ large. The success of The Cause has an inevitability to it. There is no drama even in seeing The Cause succeed or fail, and nothing about this film even puts the focus on The Cause, which is probably the most interesting idea in the script. You can probably tell when something's the most interesting part about the script when that's what everyone wants to talk about.
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Tone poem/Experimental. It's worth mentioning these types of films, but it's pretty clearly not the mode that Anderson is attempting to operate under. This isn't a mood piece, and for a number of reasons, including its conventionality, shot/counter shot dialogue-driven scenes, etc.,
The Master isn't a great experimental success.
For me, the key to all of these is that there is new information fed to the audiene, whether through implied growth, peeling away layers of a character that doesn't change, or watching history play out. I don't feel
The Master succeeds in giving a steady stream of new information to the audience, despite its conventional scenes. As a result, regardless of the stagnation of its characters, the film itself stagnates. It becomes a series of scenes that each play out nearly identically to the last. There's an interesting film here, but I feel that film is twenty minutes long.