Licorice Pizza

The title is named for a record-store chain in Los Angeles that was popular in the 1970s. Licorice has the black shininess of a vinyl record, which is also round like a pizza. Knowing the title’s origin doesn’t make it suitable to this coming-of-age comedy-drama. In any case, director Paul Thomas Anderson returns to the San Fernando Valley, clearly an Eden to him, for Licorice Pizza. His earlier movies set in The Valley include Boogie Nights, Magnolia, and Punch-Drunk Love, all of which I regard as successes. I am elated to say among San Fernando Valley PTA works, Anderson is four-for-four.

Gary Valentine (Cooper Hoffman) is a 15-year-old actor who sees Alana (Alana Haim of the pop rock group Haim) in line on picture day at his high school and asks her out. Alana is a decade older and works at the school, so accepting his offer would seem to be a mistake. Strangely, she shows up. Despite Gary wanting her, they continue to hang out together as friends. They see other people, and while nothing is said, there’s an understanding that they really shouldn’t be dating. Alana likes Lance, (Skyler Gisondo), one of Gary’s co-stars on a variety show, and Gary has no hint of conscience about kissing a girl in the same place where Alana can spot them if she looks hard enough, which she does.

He starts a waterbed business, and Alana is his assistant. She drinks martinis at the Tail of the Cock restaurant with actor Jack Holden (Sean Penn), who resembles William Holden, and Gary is there with his set of pals too. They deliver a bed to the bode of hairdresser John Peters (Bradley Cooper), and it turns into a wild adventure. Gary and Alana grow closer just by sharing so many experiences. Yet while Gary opens a pinball arcade, Alana works for politician Joel Wachs (Benny Safdie). She seems to be moving into the adult world, while Gary, though likely near 16 at this point, remains a kid. Will they end up together?

Licorice Pizza is Anderson’s mash note to the San Fernando Valley in the same way that Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time in Hollywood revealed his great affection for movieland. In 1973, America was probably not quite as split as it was in 1969 because the Vietnam War was less fractious at that point. But while the nation had put the Manson Family murders in its rearview mirror, not everything was rosy: there was the 1973 Oil Embargo, causing long lines at the gas pump, and Watergate had grown into a huge problem for President Nixon and the country. Yet for many young people, like Gary and Alana, it was a joyous time. Waterbeds became fashionable and pinball had been legalized, both exciting developments for Gary, giving his enterpreneurial spirit the chance to blossom. Alana Haim has said Anderson had her and Cooper Hoffman watch American Graffiti before filming. Anderson was likely going for the same the kind of joy and wonder that the George Lucas movie exudes, and I must say I’m gratified by the results. Licorice Pizza is unpredictable, uplifting, and vivacious, and as I left the movie theater, I admit I felt slightly woozy from this rom-com’s radiant glow.

Anderson uses a jaunty tempo that’s perfect for Gary’s relentless energy. Gary and Alana aren’t young people sitting outside the Gas-N-Sip, waiting for something to happen. Gary has ideas that keep him and the movie constantly busy. Anderson uses tracking shots galore, like the early one where Gary and Alana walk and talk together. One favorite is the tracking shot at the “Teenage Fair” that includes some fun things, including a cameo involving a cast member in The Munsters. What stays in my head more than the camera movement is Gary and Alana running toward one another. It’s as though no matter how much they shouldn’t be together because of their disparate ages they can’t keep away. The most memorable image is Gary and Alana lying on a luminous waterbed. They know they care a lot about each other, though they’re still in the friendship stage. Then Gary moves his hand over and his pinkie finger touches hers. It’s a glorious moment. In a later scene, Anderson films a good long shot of Gary and other boys in silhouette fake masturbating using gas cans. It’s a significant image because it causes a change in Alana. The directors of cinematography, Michael Bauman and Anderson, create pleasurably warm and cheerful colors that are a wonderful fit for the film’s mood.

I won’t deny there are deficiencies. John Michael Higgins portrays American businessman Jerry Frick, who has a Japanese wife. While talking to his wives, he delivers a mock Japanese that’s so fortissimo, it’s extremely off-putting. Granted, Anderson may well be stick-poking at racial sensitivities, but for Frick to speak normal English then morph into a phony Japanese accent isn’t funny. It’s also hard to see how his Japanese wife wouldn’t be offended. Too, Jon Peters’ assistant Steve (Ryan Heffington) comes off as a gay stereotype, twirling around and using exaggerated movements. Considering how entertaining so much of Licorice Pizza is, it’s surprising and disappointing that Anderson interrupts the movie’s lovely flow to use obvious caricatures. I also think Anderson misses an opportunity when Peters returns to his house after running out of gas. Because Gary has done something he shouldn’t have in Peters’ bedroom, Anderson could have had Peters want to view the waterbed Gary installed. Even if he were talked out of going, there would have drama.

I have read several reviews that say how “loose” the structure is. Some (maybe 15) minutes can be cut out of the movie (the part where Alana spots a guy looking at the campaign headquarters, recalling Taxi Driver, could have been dropped), but the sequences aren’t as baggy some believe. The early scenes, where Gary and Alana meet and grow to be friends as well as Alana’s interactions with Lance are needed (the latter scenes because it reveals Gary isn’t the only person in the world who likes Alana). In the movie’s midsection, Gary introduces Alana to his agent Mary Grady (Harriet Sansom Harris) in an amusing scene where Alana, because of Gary’s advice, says she can do everything, so she won’t miss out on a role. This leads to Alana getting a film audition with Jack Holden, who recreates a movie stunt at a nearby golf course with the help of director Rex Blau (Tom Waits), a character based on director Mark Robson. Because Gary is also there, Gary and Alana, who seemed to be moving in opposite directions at the scene’s beginning, subsequently share a moving moment. During the subsequent Jon Peters vignette, Gary proves how much he likes Alana when Peters puts the moves on her in the cab of a blue-and-orange Ford moving truck and Gary responds aggressively. As the sequence ends (after some exhilarating driving), Alana decides she should be more serious about her life. With the final episode, the two have the same reactions to separate experiences. All the scenes I mentioned are integral and either move Alana closer to Gary, set up a future sequence where she and Gary feel a connection (for example, the agent scene steers her to Holden, leading to the moment where Gary runs to her), or pulls them apart. What I am saying is, Anderson’s plot construction is sound.

Alana Haim, who has no prior screen acting experience, gives a winningly magnetic job as Alana. Her anger at her father as a potential relationship slides out of her reach comes off naturally. Haim’s jagged insecurity meshes with Gary’s desire to reinvent himself and makes, for me, the age difference not seem as awful as it appears. Cooper Hoffman, son of the late Philip Seymore Hoffman (who was in five of Anderson’s movies), is a charmer, the kind that would appeal to Alana. He’s even suave when he’s the oily businessman. Bradley Cooper obviously loves playing Jon Peters (who waived his fee for A Star is Born, allowing, according to Cooper, the 2018 remake to get made), and he’s fun to watch gobbling the scenery. He can’t do much with dialogue that isn’t funny, as when he tries to get Gary to say the last name of his girlfriend, “Streisand,” correctly, yet his willful obnoxiousness creates a strange fascination. I’m glad Sean Penn lends Jack Holden charisma and self-respect when he could have played him as pathetic lush because he’s far more watchable as he is played. Christine Ebersol depicts Lucy Doolittle with appropriate moxie and explodes entertainingly when she has the opportunity. Harriet Sansom Harris, as Mary Grady, performs excellently while she interviews Alana. Her slightly shaking face (vividly captured in close-up) when she’s excited is hilarious and maybe a little scary.

The many unattractive clothes (wide, pointy collars and striped shirts) aren’t the fault of costume designer Mark Bridges, but of the period. (I should know; I wore many striped shirts in the seventies.) The same can also be said for the hairdos, which, while less-than-dazzling (like the shag), are right. Jonny Greenwood provides a zappy score. He also doesn’t allow the the music to get too saccharine, as during the final sequence. The soundtrack is loaded with fine songs, including “Life on Mars?” by David Bowie, “Walk Away” by James Gang, and “Peace Frog” by the Doors. The use of Paul McCartney’s “Let Me Roll It” for the “love” on the waterbed scene is brilliant.

Immersing the audience in the early 1970s and showing a depth of feeling for the era are crucially important. Yet they don’t mean much if the love story doesn’t connect. For me, it does. Beautifully.

January 13, 2022