This we know: Paul Thomas Anderson will never make a bad film. He might not be able to trump Magnolia or The Master (can you?), but he is too good now. He is safe.
Inherent Vice. Thank God they still make films like that. Insane, as if spewed out by some screwed-up time machine stuck in mid-70s. Groovy, if you can get in that groove. It’s like they say. In a million years Inherent Vice will be considered a cult classic not unlike a certain film by the Coen brothers.
The most hilarious thing is that some people are actually complaining about the plot. Complicated, they say, incoherent. Oh yeah? This was based on a fucking Pynchon novel, what do you want. Anderson deserves whatever crazy award they can give for recreating the vibe. So do come on. Complaining about this plot is like criticizing Picasso for being unrealistic.
Still. Almost two and a half hours, you will be put to a test. Might not be pretty.