Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) is a twisted man, both physically and mentally. His gnarled face and hunched, awkward form are in lock-step with his inner self, a raging alcoholic. Early scenes see him obtaining intoxicants from anywhere he can - from missile fuel in the navy, to paint thinner on a farm, and an incorrigible sex addict.

After being run out of his most recent job, Freddie sneaks into a party aboard a moored boat, seeking his next drink.

He is awakened the next morning to be led to Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman), whose boat he snuck onto, and Dodd offers him work. Thus begins the fascinating and complicated relationship between the two.

Dodd is a self-described writer, doctor, nuclear physicist and ”theoretical philosopher,” whose book The Cause is the basis for a religion of which he is the head.

Director Paul Thomas Anderson has made no secret that Dodd is a proxy for real-life religious huckster/science fiction author L. Ron Hubbard, founder of the Church of Scientology. While the notoriously litigious group has come down hard on the film, The Master isn’t really an exposé of Scientology per se, but rather an allegory for the types of people drawn to it and its ilk.

Anderson is a fan of allegory. His previous film, There Will Be Blood, saw the life of a ruthless American oilman stand as a representation of the rise of greed and violence inherent in capitalism.

In The Master, the focus shifts to people’s relationship with control - control over themselves, control over others, and attempting to buck the yoke of other’s control over them. Everyone strives to be The Master in their own ways.

The cinematography is simple but stunning, shot in glorious 2D (remember 2D?!). Jonny Greenwood of Radiohead re-teams with Anderson after scoring Blood and perfectly sets a tone of elegant, restrained bombast.

It’s good to see Phoenix step back into acting, as I had forgotten how good he was during his tenure as a maybe-crazy-actor-turned-rapper a while back.

As per usual, Hoffman gives a fantastic performance, and in a very understated way, Amy Adams (portraying Dodd’s wife, Peggy) holds her own against the veteran character actor, stealing almost every scene she’s in.

Anderson has delivered another brilliant allegorical character study from the new vanguard of Classic American Cinema.

There Will Be Oscar Noms.