Psychological Realism in Paul Thomas Anderson's INHERENT VICE

Warner Bros
Warner Bros

Paul Thomas Anderson’s 2014 investigative drama Inherent Vice is a film constructed upon a foundation of psychological realism. The majority of these films opt for the most accurate representation of reality both in the mundane and the exciting. Anderson tries the exact same in this film, but the ‘reality is altered and heightened’ through the drug-addled perspective of protagonist Doc Sportello.

The use of fictional places, such as the opening location of Gordita Beach, in the real Los Angeles county, immediately establishes a heightened reality that adheres to the same rules as our own; it is ‘the creation of an ideal world in the likeness of the real, with its own temporal destiny’. The presence of drug culture is omnipresent throughout, as Doc is constantly seen smoking, snorting, or getting scolded for his ‘hippy antics’. This emphasises the central element of the film as narcotics were an integral part of life, but impacts the narrative. This is particularly obvious during a commercial Doc watches, where a character on screen addresses him directly. 

Anderson continuously employs fades to transition from scene to scene, obscuring the passage of time and changing of place, which may distort the narrative, but the viewer experiences the distorted reality of our protagonist. Halligan writes that ‘psychological realism was a rationalisation of the alienation of modern man’. Doc is a past-his-prime 1970s character, experiencing the loss of purpose in the wake of the Vietnam war whose reality is reflected through during this period of history. All of this results in an intentionally convoluted narrative, which leaves Doc, as well as the audience, in the struggle to maintain a grip. Anderson even references this in a conversation between Doc and his ex-girlfriend Shasta who, when asked what inherent vice is, laughs ‘I don’t know’. Sauvage claims that this psychedelic incoherence ‘is in line with Anderson’s larger goals of having his character’s psychological states dictate the look and objective reality of his films’. Inherent Vice remains a realist film because the audience is witnessing the character’s psychological reality proving more accurate than any ‘objective’ telling of the story. 

Whilst psychological realism is paramount to the film, Anderson still exaggerates the relevance and importance of creating an accurate depiction of time and place. There is era-appropriate costuming and production design throughout, making it, at least aesthetically, an accurate recreation of the West Coast in 1970. Bazin claims that the photographic image is ‘the object freed from the conditions of time and space that govern it’, but Anderson rejects this by making a film firmly set in 1970. It is almost wholly governed by the time and space in which it is set, even referencing the Manson murders and Richard Nixon’s presidency. This consistency is disrupted by the use of music, which features tracks from Neil Young released in 1972, and Jack Scott’s Burning Bridges released in 1991. The only age-appropriate song is Les Fleurs by Minnie Riperton, playing during a breakthrough Doc has about the central mystery. Downing claims Harvest, a Neil Young song prevalent in the film, is ‘so full of recognition, yet so short on sense’, a perfect metaphorical encapsulation of this film. It is visually firmly set in the reality of the period, but aurally, firmly not.’ 

It is with the inclusion of the character Sortilège where counter-realism rears its head. Her omniscient narration obviously breaks the perfect reality of the narrative. This does, however, provide an explanation for the use of music and locations that don’t match the otherwise painstakingly recreated 1970s Los Angeles. Sortilège is very much a stand-in for Anderson himself, creating a devised retrospective reality, telling the story as accurately as possibly from a future perspective; she is a spectral presence that disappears and reappears inconsistently and without explanation throughout the narrative. This is most obvious during several scenes where she rides in the car with Doc, conversing with him the whole way, but disappearing upon his arrival at whatever destination it is he was approaching. ‘Instead of history made realistic, ‘realism’ is historicised’: the filmmaker is addressing the fact the story is being told from a perspective that was not present for the events that unfold, thus highlighting the difficulty in creating a realist film, because perfect realism cannot truly exist outside the documentation of an event as it happens.  

Another realist attribute Anderson gives to the film is found within the technicalities of the filmmaking itself. Nayman comments on ‘the almost catatonic languorousness of the filmmaking’, aiming for realism without interfering with the action. This is achieved through the constant use of stationary long takes, with no camera movement or angle suggesting lucid diversion. This is shown in most scenes, such as Shasta’s seduction of Doc. This enforces the fact that psychologically-altered realism is genuine reality. Bazin praises the realism of Robert J. Flaherty’s Nanook of the North for showing ‘the actual length of the waiting period; the length of the hunt is the very substance of the image’. The approach in Inherent Vice is very much the same, the camera being a stationary observer, watching the events take place without any intervention.  

Inherent Vice is a film that adopts modern approaches to realism, particularly how the psychological states of certain characters view the world. If a story is being told from a character’s perspective, it should present the world as accurately as it can from their perspective – and that is what Anderson achieves. Halligan criticises Bazin’s theories of realism by claiming ‘the narrative cannot recode locations so as to say something of the characters’ states of mind’ –  that is exactly what Inherent Vice does; it creates fictitious environments to coincide with the psychological reality of its characters. It remains inherently true that ‘perfect realism will never be achieved but it will be approximated more and more closely’, which is what makes this film a unique approach to realism. It combines the aesthetic and the psychological inquiries to create as realistic an account as possible. 



Rory Marsh

He/Him

A student of Film and English, constant moviegoer, and cinema employee who has scooped popcorn with the best of 'em. A huge fan of grindhouse and exploitation cinema, the grittier the better.

Letterboxd - rozzar227

Previous
Previous

TIFF 2020: Shiva Baby

Next
Next

Away