OPINION | Licorice Pizza is a great movie, my best friend fell asleep in the middle of it

With Licorice Pizza (2021), Paul Thomas Anderson takes us California dreamin’ on such a winter’s day, ten years after the Mama’s and the Papa’s wrote a song about it. In the San Fernando Valley, Gary Valentine, 15, starts flirting with a 25-year-old Alana Kane and tries his hand at every entrepreneurial opportunity he finds along his path.

The movie unrolls at a slow pace. You’re following the characters, unsure where that will lead you. What’s the main goal? The central plot? Is something (anything, really!) important gonna happen? Relax, you’re asking too many questions.

If you’ve ever been to Disneyland, you must remember those movie-themed rides through your favourite Disney decors. There on the left, some clouds. Oh, look on the right! That’s Peter Pan flying! Apart from the movement of your ship on the rails, some lights and maybe the arm of a character waving back and forth, not much was happening. Still, you were enjoying the view, the changes in the rhythm of your cruise. Sometimes, taking a temporary leap inside a universe without expecting any spectacular firework might be just enough.

Because of social media and the imperatives of immediacy in modern life, we’re now used to facing a series of short stimuli that easily greet our reward system, a habit that contributes to making us lazy over time as we don’t have to make much effort to achieve gratification. For that reason, it doesn’t come as a surprise that an initial reflex would be to slip into a state of boredom. But giving up on Licorice Pizza (or any other slow-paced movie) for that reaction would be missing out on something potentially great.

Sure, you’re not as babied as you could be with some blockbuster movies. And by that, I mean that the director chose subtlety over obviousness, and essence over action. To enjoy such a movie, you need to be attentive. Actually attentive. There’s plenty of details in which you could find greatness, stunning cinematic shots on Kodak film and an amazing soundtrack. Focus just a bit more and you’ll understand why PTA decided to present things that way or how the reactions and relationships of Alana all reveal something about her psyche. There’s a richness in all the small things patiently aligning before your eyes. Slow down, be an observer, we’re taking a stroll in the ‘70s. Take a look around and you’ll see a bit of the good, a bit of the bad and a bit of the ugly.

Because it’s exactly that. For two hours, you’re wandering at a time when everything seemed possible. Starting businesses from scratch or impressing your very adult crush as a mere teenager. Some of those things are morally questionable and not necessarily dealt as such in the movie, but they’re also hints here and there of the imperfection of an otherwise idealized world. Yes, women were heavily sexualized in the 70s and yes, violence and crime were also a thing. We mostly see things through the rose-coloured glasses of youth and innocence, but that doesn’t mean everything was so bubbly back then, and those irregularities remind us of that. In our current real life, we experience something similar: living through life, still having fun although many events show us proof everyday that our world can be a cruel place.

Once again, you’re not babied with those issues. You’re your own critical judge. Or you might also just lay back, put a bit of your moral guard down, and enjoy the movie as the fictional piece it is. The characters are imperfect, sometimes problematic, but who said they should be holy role models? And there is much more to a movie than just that. Take Call Me By Your Name (2017), for instance. Either you feel repulsed by the (disturbing) age gap between the two lovers, or you just fall into Elio’s experience of a promised to end romance in all the vulnerability of it. Besides the story, you can only applaud the cinematography and the atmosphere the movie succeeds to convey. But even without that last consideration, we could debate on the necessity or not of morality in art (but that’s a topic we’ll leave for discussion another time).

It comes as no surprise that Paul Thomas Anderson himself, born in 1970, spent his childhood days in California. His recreation of that golden age almost seems captured in a bubble: a postcard covered in both rust and gold. If you’ve carefully paid attention to the elements mentioned above, you’ll realize how the themes, the characters and the visuals aim to capture the essence of the golden Californian ’70s. It is romanticized, but will evoke nostalgia for people who lived or dreamed of that era. Even young people that haven’t even been raised in American culture will get it, thanks to the well-dosed concentrate of elements we all link to that era, in its philosophy as well as in its aesthetic. Is it a realistic portrait of that place at that time? At least partially, and probably with the focus adjusted on what makes us feel good and evokes that feeling of tranquility.

As adults, we tend to idealize our youth. At least partially. Psychologists explain this phenomenon as a way to cope with our past and have faith in our future. Most of us experience the feeling of nostalgia at least a few times a week. This sometimes comforting, sometimes bittersweet sensation can take us in a familiar place in times of doubt, help us grieve and preserves our will to live by reminding us of the good times spent with loved ones. Professor and psychologist Clay Routledge explains: “Nostalgia serves a crucial existential function. It brings to mind cherished experiences that assure us we are valued people who have meaningful lives.”

To sum it all up, sometimes, you just have to accept and enjoy the ride, look around and find bliss in the details despite imperfection. It’s a movie, it’s fiction! You’re supposed to allow yourself to take some time and slow down, and it’s ok not to condemn every morally questionable decision made by a character. Paul Thomas Anderson wrote this movie with no end in mind, letting his characters live and decided on an ending based on the moment he felt was a good closure. He succeeded in applying it in the process of writing and directing, focusing on the journey instead of the destination. If one of the great directors of this century applies this philosophy in his work, why not apply it yourself in your experience of cinema?