HARD EIGHT (72)

Directed by: Paul Thomas Anderson

Starring: Phillip Baker Hall, John C. Reilly, Gwyneth Paltrow, Samuel L. Jackson

The Pitch: An elderly, mysterious gambler takes a young drifter under his wing.

Theo Sez: It doesn't, after the superb opening, really go anywhere very memorable - the characters are frittered away a bit - and it's rather disconcerting to see some of the same effects as in BOOGIE NIGHTS (notably the tolling bell), not to mention the same surrogate-father theme : hopefully Anderson won't turn out to be a one-trick pony. Yet there's also enough here to confirm him as the most exciting talent to come along in ages - an atmospheric, melancholy tale of guilt and redemption, making the most of emotional reticence and fired by a combination of four things : the glitz and neon of Las Vegas, a veil of pitiless brilliance over sadness and sleaze ; a smoky, jazzy score playing low in the background ; a couple of exhilarating tracking shots, the camera arcing gracefully through bleak, moody settings ; and, above all, the hills and crevices of Hall's dour, lived-in face. The result is perhaps insubstantial but also rather magical, so assured it can throw little curveballs (the half-glimpsed quarrel at the next table) without breaking its stride and so spellbinding you barely even notice the third-act weakness. It creates a world, a distinctive atmosphere ; it's a film to get lost in.