'Licorice Pizza' review: Paul Thomas Anderson's singular slice of '70s Hollywood An enterprising teen and a 20-something photographer's assistant become unlikely friends — and then zig-zag from one comic episode to the next — in this altogether wonderful film.


Movie Reviews

Paul Thomas Anderson's 'Licorice Pizza' is an endearing slice of '70s Hollywood

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This is FRESH AIR. Writer-director Paul Thomas Anderson hails from the San Fernando Valley, the setting for several of his films, including "Boogie Nights," "Magnolia" and "Punch-Drunk Love." He returns to the Valley for his new movie, "Licorice Pizza," an episodic coming-of-age comedy that takes place in the 1970s. It stars acting newcomers Alana Haim and Cooper Hoffman and opens in theaters this week. Our film critic Justin Chang has this review.

JUSTIN CHANG, BYLINE: The words licorice pizza are never spoken in Paul Thomas Anderson's new movie, "Licorice Pizza." And so you may wonder where the title comes from, especially if you weren't in Southern California in the '70s. It's the name of an old chain of record stores that were around when Anderson was growing up in the San Fernando Valley.

The movie unfolds like a jumbled '70s flashback, one that he seems to have scrapped together by rummaging through cherished old stories and songs. We hear some of them on the gloriously overstuffed soundtrack - Nina Simone, Sonny and Cher, The Doors and others.

The movie is funny, shaggy, and altogether wonderful. It's also an obvious labor of love, starring two young actors with whom Anderson has some history. One of them is Cooper Hoffman, the son of the late Philip Seymour Hoffman, who was one of Anderson's regular collaborators. Cooper Hoffman plays a 15-year-old go-getter with the made-for-Hollywood name of Gary Valentine. At the beginning of the movie, Gary meets a twentysomething photographer's assistant named Alana. She's played by a lot Alana Haim, who's part of a rock trio - Haim - with her two sisters. They've appeared in several short films and music videos directed by Anderson.

Alana Haim is a revelation here, with a radiant "Star Is Born" aura that hooks you the moment she first appears. The movie is something of a romantic comedy, but a platonic one. Gary is instantly smitten with Alana and tries to impress her, bragging about his acting career - he has one movie under his belt - and the PR company he runs with his busy single mom. Alana dismisses him at first, noting their age difference. But something about Gary's insistent charm wears her down, and a friendship forms.


ALANA HAIM: (As Alana Kane) So how did you become such a hotshot actor?

COOPER HOFFMAN: (As Gary Valentine) I'm a showman. It's my calling.

HAIM: (As Alana Kane) Ugh.

HOFFMAN: (As Gary Valentine) I don't know how to do anything else. It's what I'm meant to do. I mean, ever since I was a kid, I've been a song and dance man.

HAIM: (As Alana Kane) Come on - ever since you were a kid, song and dance man. Where are your parents?

HOFFMAN: (As Gary Valentine) My mom works for me.

HAIM: (As Alana Kane) Oh, of course she does. That makes sense.

HOFFMAN: (As Gary Valentine) Yes, she does, in my public relations company.

HAIM: (As Alana Kane) In your public relations company - because you have that.

HOFFMAN: (As Gary Valentine) Yes.

HAIM: (As Alana Kane) And you're an actor.

HOFFMAN: (As Gary Valentine) Yes.

HAIM: (As Alana Kane) And you're a secret agent, too.

HOFFMAN: (As Gary Valentine) Well, no, I'm not a secret agent. That's funny.

HAIM: (As Alana Kane) Are you joking?

HOFFMAN: (As Gary Valentine) Well, no, I'm not.

HAIM: (As Alana Kane) That's a lot.

HOFFMAN: (As Gary Valentine) It's - gets complicated.

HAIM: (As Alana Kane) I'm sure - and all that math homework you have to do after everything.

CHANG: Gary's 15 minutes in Hollywood are soon over. But he's an unusually enterprising kid, and he soon opens a waterbed company in the valley. And Alana, who has nothing better to do, becomes his business partner. Their relationship is a series of rocky ups and downs, separations and reunions. Gary loves Alana and never stops trying to win her over. Alana admires Gary's entrepreneurial spirit, but she's also easily turned off by his immaturity and wonders why she's hanging out with him and his 15-year-old friends to begin with.

The movie sends them zigzagging from one comic episode to the next. Not all of them work. I cringed at a recurring comic bit in which the actor John Michael Higgins talks to his Japanese wife in an exaggerated accent. But Anderson is on more solid footing when he shows Gary and Alana getting caught up in the craziness of 1970s Hollywood. At one point, Alana is clearly out of her element when she has drinks with a motorcycle-riding actor who's meant to evoke William Holden, played by a gravel-voiced Sean Penn. Gary Valentine is a young stand-in for Gary Goetzman, a prolific film and TV producer, whose colorful stories about '70s Hollywood, including his own start as a child actor, drive a lot of the plot in "Licorice Pizza." That said, it's an Anderson movie through and through. It might be sunnier and more laid-back than his earlier dramas, like "There Will Be Blood" and "The Master," but it's no less rich in historical detail.

One of the movie's funniest set pieces - an action scene involving a runaway truck - takes place during the gas shortages that would cause car lines to stretch on for miles. No matter what shenanigans Alana and Gary tumble into, nearly every episode ends in disillusionment. Grown-ups, and especially grown-up men, are so phony, so disappointing, so corrupt. And the men who work in the movies may be the worst of all. For all his affection for old Hollywood, Anderson isn't afraid to lay bare the tawdry side of the industry and the dangers it poses, especially for an impressionable young woman like Alana. And so there's something satisfying about how consistently "Licorice Pizza" rejects moviemaking convention.

It's clearly influenced by "American Graffiti," another portrait of California youth. But it also has the loose and limber vibe of great '70s filmmakers like Robert Altman and Hal Ashby. Anderson delights in filling the screen with wonderfully unglamorous young faces - freckles, pimples and all. Both Hoffman and Haim are terrific. And Haim in particular has so much natural warmth and charisma that you'd gladly follow her into another movie, especially if it were as endearing and singular as this one.

DAVIES: Justin Chang is the film critic for the LA Times. He reviewed Paul Thomas Anderson's new film, "Licorice Pizza."

On Monday's show, investigative reporter Peter Robinson tells the tragic story of Boeing's 737 MAX airplane, which was grounded after two deadly crashes exposed flaws the company knew of but hadn't told pilots about. Robinson says it's the story of a corporate culture that valued profits over safety. His new book is called "Flying Blind." I hope you can join us.


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DAVIES: FRESH AIR's executive producer is Danny Miller. Our technical director and engineer is Audrey Bentham, with additional engineering support from Joyce Lieberman, Julian Herzfeld and Hal Banks. Our interviews and reviews are produced and edited by Amy Salit, Phyllis Myers, Sam Briger, Lauren Krenzel, Heidi Saman, Therese Madden, Ann Marie Baldonado, Thea Chaloner, Seth Kelley and Kayla Lattimore. Our producer of digital media is Molly Seavy-Nesper. Roberta Shorrock directed the show. For Terry Gross, I'm Dave Davies.


DONOVAN: (Singing) Goo goo, goo goo, Barbajagal was his name now. Goo goo, goo goo, Barbajagal was his name now.

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