We've all been there. How many times have you watched a trailer that left you beside yourself with joy and counting down the days until the film's release, only to feel like you've been had when you see the whole thing?
The all-star come-on for Inherent Vice brightened up the last months of 2014 no end. Here, it seemed, was another Paul Thomas Anderson treasure with the energy and wit of Boogie Nights and a coolness that would see it claim early 2015 all for itself. It's been a big January for films alright, and this is its biggest disappointment.
Adapted by Anderson from the Thomas Pynchon book of the same name, Inherent Vice has us stumbling and scrounging in 1970 with 'Doc' Sportello (Phoenix), a full-time stoner and occasional private eye who receives a request for help from his angelic-looking ex, Shasta Fay Hepworth (Waterston).
Shasta Fay has moved up the monetary ladder since her time in Doc's arms and is now the concubine of Mickey Wolfman (Roberts), an LA property developer who has disappeared. It's a messy business, so who better to 'hire' than one of the messiest men on the West Coast?
By some distance, this is the most divisive film of Anderson's career to date. There will be those who find themselves sucked into its world of red herrings, neo-Nazis, dodgy dentists, caveman cops, undercover ops, spoofers and more, while others will feel that, at close to two-and-a-half hours, it doesn't say anything that could not have been said in 90 minutes, or indeed, that Robert Altman's The Long Goodbye didn't say all those years ago.
Both sides should be able to agree that the era is brilliantly recreated and the acting is excellent; it's just a pity the cast didn't get more entertaining stuff to work with. No-one will need to be placed under Doc-like levels of duress to concede that the trailer makes the film look a lot funnier than it actually is.
In marine law terms, 'inherent vice' means anything you cannot avoid. You have a choice here with your time and money - have a good think.
Harry Guerin
