Writer-Director Paul Thomas Anderson's The Master seems to act as a Rorschach test much like the one taken by Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) at the film's start. In its hazy form, viewers can see the story of a troubled man who looks for respite from psychological distress. Others can see a rebuke of Lancaster Dodd's (Philip Seymour Hoffman) charlatan ways as he writes and revises his cult's rules on the fly. Still others can see a chronicle of the strange ability of Dodd's seemingly ridiculous cult to actually have a profound effect on people. Some may suggest that it is a love story between Dodd and Freddie, as the film revolves around that curious unconsummated relationship. That closeness may also be construed as the relationship between the unruly puppy (Freddie) and the master who tries to tame it. With the omnipresence of Peggy Dodd (Amy Adams), the film might become an examination of power dynamics and leadership as we question who is really the movement's master. The film could be a tale of the trauma inflicted on society by World Wars and the beginning of a nuclear age (although the cause of Freddie's traumas seem to extend back further than that). If we're looking at the Rorschach from Freddie's perspective, we might even see that it's "a cock, actually, upside down," a look at man's crude attitude toward sexuality. By forgoing the typical hints and theme exposition of most films, The Master manages to be more than the sum of its parts. It finds us grasping - along with its main characters - at greater understanding in the face of lifetimes worth of horror and beauty.
And what of the civilizing forces of the Cause? Like Richard Brooks with the character of Elmer Gantry, Anderson seems to care about (or at least pity) Lancaster Dodd enough to make his movement more than just the work of a charlatan. He's fueled by ego and charisma, but even while his publisher and a key disciple (Laura Dern) question what he views as his most profound writing yet, he seems to want to believe in the Cause as much as any other follower. Perhaps it's his hope that the Cause will help him tame his lusts and allow him to become a pure intellectual. Perhaps, like others in his era, he just wants bigger answers in the face of overwhelming forces. Lancaster might be making it up as he goes (as his son and Dern's character suggest), but at times his work seems to be genuinely helping people to make sense of the muddled postwar world. The winding structure of flashbacks, dreams, and current events all affecting the characters seems to lend credence to Dodd's idea that all of our experiences - regardless of their basis in reality or when they happen - add up to the totality of who we are.
* Lancaster Dodd (at his daughter's wedding): "Marriage, previous to The Cause, was *awful*. Awful. There's a cycle, like life. Birth, excitement, growth, decay. Death. Now... now.How about this? Here comes, a large dragon. Teeth! Blood dripping! Red eyes! What do I got? A lasso. And I whip it up, I wrap it around its neck, and I wrestle! Wrestle! Wrestle him to the ground. I snap up, I say "Sit, dragon!" Dragon sits. I say "Stay!", dragon stays. Now it's got a leash on. Take it for a walk. And that's what-where we're at with it now. It stays on command. Next we're gonna teach it to roll over and play dead." It almost reminds me of something Orson Welles might say in an interview.
** Apparently Anderson had Adams sit in on scenes that she wasn't in to make Peggy's power felt.
Like Elmer Gantry, music also plays a large role in both attracting people to the Cause/Dodd (See: Lancaster singing to the jovial crowd, Lancaster singing to Freddie,) and in connecting audiences with the film (See: Greenwood's score, Ella Fitzgerald singing "Get Thee Behind Me Satan" on the soundtrack).
Anderson's use of similar/repeated images could take up multiple essays, so I'll briefly mention two (with visual references below) that stood out in addition to the flowing wake: Freddie as a child and the sand woman. At various points, Freddie is framed in a way that suggests he's a lost child looking for his parents or a family. Even with his much younger sweetheart, she visually looks to be the adult in that situation. Then there's the sand woman that opens and closes the film (and is seen intermittently). Freddie mentally returns to her at various points in the film, patting the sand down to perfect or violate his constantly-shifting creation. He seems to be continuously searching for a better version of her and himself, until (in the film's final shot), he's content to simply lay next to her and let the rest of the sailors pass him by. Perhaps he's finally comfortable with his infinite wandering and searching. Or perhaps these images mean something else entirely.