Every once in a while, a quality director attempts to redefine great film as a movie best viewed under the influence at three in the morning. This is usually the onus of David Lynch, so it’s nice when somebody like Paul Thomas Anderson gets into the act. Inherent Vice is one these attempts.
You have to check your “why?” at the door. It will be a question you ask in every scene otherwise. You’ll ask it when Bigfoot (Josh Brolin) downs a table full of hash like a greedy child at an ice cream eating contest. You’ll ask it when Doc (Joaquin Phoenix) gets laid out next to a corpse in the desert. You ask it when Martin Short shows up, playing a lecherous syndicated coke fiend. Stop asking this question. Inherent Vice is about moments, not logic. Don’t even start with motivation; there isn’t a reason for anybody doing anything in this film.
Doc is a P.I. I think he goes by “Doc” because his office is in a private medical practice. Don’t ask. I’m telling you, stop it. He acts, dresses and behaves like a homeless drug addict. He gets high more often than Towelie on “South Park.” He doesn’t wear shoes and often has filthy feet. Thank goodness the movie makes a point of this or I might not have noticed. Now despite the junkie demeanor, Doc gets a new client every scene and almost every woman he meets wants to ball him. Don’t. Ask. Seriously.
I know we’re more than a decade before Reagan, but did 60s women really have these standards? Doc is repellant. Maybe they dig the Civil War sideburns and unique bedraggled hairstyle for every day of the week.
The main case here is Doc tracking down a disappeared millionaire which may or may not have something to do with his vanished ex-wife (Katherine Waterston). It doesn’t really matter. At some point, we hit upon “The Golden Fang” which may or may not be – 1) a small seagoing smuggling vessel 2) a powerful Asian drug ring or 3) an ADA cartel. (Yes, as in dentist) And you know what? You can watch the entire film riveted to the 
screen and not get a satisfactory answer to which of the three it is.
Inherent Vice plays like Paul Thomas Anderson decided to remake Fletch while on acid. No matter where you catch it, it feels like a TV series you’re hopelessly behind on. I’m sure this was a tactic to employ Joaquin’s natural screen distance. If you don’t know what’s going on, Joaquin’s perpetual failure to connect will be seen as a self-issue rather than a movie-issue. Hence, people “in on the joke” will feel an even greater connection, as one often finds in cult films.
Inherent Vice reminded me a great deal of The Big Lebowski. Perhaps it was the laid back hero or the fact that Doc and Dude both managed to score without any redeemable personal merit I could identify, or perhaps it’s just the feel of being presented a movie about semi-lucid moments and lack of comprehension. In any case, there are far worse comparison films. I have no doubt Inherent Vice will find a devoted audience, baked or otherwise. Mostly baked.
♪You know I’m all about that dope
‘Bout that blunt, no sober
I’m all about that crank, ‘bout that smack, no sober
I’m all about that shit, ‘bout that weed, no sober
I’m all about that leaf, ‘bout that chronic
Yeah it’s pretty clear, I ain’t no square dude
No I can’t make it, make it without a hit or two
‘Cause I got that shroom shroom that all the cops chase
And all caked dirt in my intimate space♫
Rated R, 148 Minutes
D: Paul Thomas Anderson
W: Paul Thomas Anderson
Genre: Druggity drug drug smack
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: Addicts, cult movie fans
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Eric Cartman
♪ Parody inspired by “All About the Bass”
