The 1970s San Fernando Valley featured in Licorice Pizza – The Daily Utah Chronicle

Alana Haim and Cooper Hoffman in a screenshot from the trailer for “Licorice Pizza” (courtesy of Universal Pictures)

Neither a slice of pizza nor a slice of liquorice can be found in the course of the latest Paul Thomas Anderson film. The title “Licorice Pizza” does not refer to food, but rather to a chain of record stores that were scattered across Southern California in the 1970s. With a perfectly selected soundtrack of 70s hits and a friendly, strolling pace, “Licorice Pizza” feels like standing in a record store hearing Anderson tell stories about growing up in California’s San Fernando Valley. The movie feels like someone is taking you by the hand and showing you their hometown as it recounts memories of the buildings passing by. It offers a view of the valley found during the magical hour, and even the most peculiar detail is coated with love and affection.

Consists of vignettes

“Licorice Pizza” has no plot to speak of, instead following Alana Kane (Alana Haim), twenty-five and unsure of how to enter the adult world, and Gary Valentine, played by Cooper Hoffman, son of the late great actor Philip Seymour Hoffman, fifteen and ready to jump from child movie star to entrepreneur through various comic misadventures in the Valley in 1973. The two develop a prickly, comedic friendship while embarking on various quick schemes, like a waterbed company, and bumping into worn out movie stars, producers, and local politicians. None of the vignettes survived their greeting, except one that revolves around the Caucasian owner of a restaurant, played by John Michael Higgins, who speaks Japanese women with his revolving door in a racist imitation of Japanese-accented English.

Filmmaking in the 1970s

The 1973 film set aside, Paul Thomas Anderson’s cinematic style reflects the decade. Anderson has often spoken of Robert Altman’s influence on his films, and next to Altman I was reminded of Hal Ashby, who appeared in films like “Harold and Maude” and “Shampoo.” Looseness found in many New Hollywood movies of the ’70s. It helps Anderson underscore how bored and disoriented Alana feels. A tight, fat-trimmed version of “Licorice Pizza” would add to the characters or the story, that Anderson wants to tell, not be faithful.

The success of “Licorice Pizza” is based on how much the viewer wants to hang out with Alana and Gary, and Anderson puts Haim and Hoffman on the big screen, two people who could become movie stars if they wanted to. Haim brings a captivating, intense focus to the way she holds the camera. It is a firework that starts on July 4th – charismatic, emotionally open and invigorating, probably on the screen. At one point, Alana is compared to Grace Kelly, and while she’s not like the Princess of Monaco, that speaks for Haim’s movie-star charisma. A more accurate comparison could be Barbra Streisand. Both Haim and Hoffman give performances that exude an air of lightness but hide the elegance with which they alternate between self-confidence and insecurity. Alana and Gary’s relationship is strange, mysterious, and compelling, and I personally have never read chemistry as anything other than platonic.

The film doesn’t drag itself along, but rather with the self-confidence and patience to take the time it wants to live in the lovingly recreated world. There’s no other reason for “Licorice Pizza” than hanging out with Alana and Gary in the Valley. It’s a movie about hanging out with your friends.

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@abovemegan