MAGNOLIA is a sprawling three-hour meditation on forgiveness, fate and spiritual currencies; a film which resembles life in its most fundamental sense--if somewhat flawed it blossoms as a mystery sad and yet blissful at once. P. T. Anderson proves to be one of the best young American film directors not only for masterfully tackling this subject matter and telling with impressive sleigh-of-hand these stories, but just in the film's first few minutes he dazzles unlike most filmmakers of recent years--with inspired editing, cinematography and storytelling.

     What's this flick about? Let's see if I can summarize this huge ball of superb celluloid. It's the story of Claudia: she has problems, a bad habit, and a famous father. It's the story of Whiz-kid Donnie Smith: he wants bracers, to love and for everyone to know he was once famous. It's the story of Frank T. J. Mackie: he tells you how to seduce and destroy, how to "make that friend into your sperm receptacle", but won't tell about the past he has deliberately buried in an unmarked grave in the dark recesses of his soul. It's about Earl Partridge: who only truly has hours to live, regret to suffer and a compassionate male nurse who will do him a great favor. It's about Office Jim Kurring: he meets a woman who has a corpse hidden in her closet, and another who also hides corpses in the closets of her soul. It's about Linda Partridge: she hates herself, loves the man she initially married for money, and truly wants to die. And it's about the frogs too.

     Paul Thomas Anderson makes this all work with precise editing, fluid camerawork and insightful writing into a panoramic vision of the ups, downs and the just-being-there magic of life. Great performances stand out all around: Julianne Moore's Linda at the verge of a nervous breakdown. William H. Macy's off-kilter, desperate Has-been Donnie Smith. John C. Reilly's well-meaning, lonesome Christian cop Kurring. Jason Robards' confessional Earl Partridge. But specially, Tom Cruise's career turn as Frank T. J. Mackie, a demonically inspired performance for which he will be cited out again and again.

     Of special mention is this film's soundtrack by the underrated, cultish Aimee Mann--it's a genuine keeper. Mann, who was on the band 'Til Tuesday on the eighties, has been bouncing around for years, gathering kudos but no real success. This film should be the marker for much-deserved success (this and her upcoming record). Her lyrics are poetic, her music affecting and her voice carries unfathomed power. P. T. Anderson has said that MAGNOLIA grew out of adapting Aimee's songs to film, and the film-music connection here is the strongest I've seen in years. Anderson even magically interrups the film by having the characters one by one sing along with Aimee's "Wise Up." I can certainly say I was love-struck by MAGNOLIA's soundtrack.

     Not all is well in Anderson's multi-threaded film. Whenever's there's not a wonderful Aimee Mann song playing, he chooses to have a never-ending orchestrated score running along, obscuring key dialogue between characters; the film could have benefited from taking most of this diverting score out. And towards the end, some of the characters stories are not brought to closure; though perhaps Anderson purposefully did this to comment on the incom-pleteness of living. These are but minor minuses, and the film's pluses more than make up for them.

     A film weaving such a tapestry of character and story will not charm everyone by fault of its daunting nature and length, but to reflect on MAGNOLIA's themes is to reflect on those of Life. Loneliness, Fate, Family Relationships, Forgiveness, Escape, Faith, the Past, Love and the lack of love are all explored and accentuated in these stories. We may be thru with the past, but the past isn't thru with us, is a phrase delivered by several characters, and so we're all determined to deal with these issues in our lives time and again, seemingly to much suffering, no point and no resolution. But then Anderson delivers these souls, and we the audience, with the absurdist, mind-baffling rain of frogs. There are many clues along the film about this--try to catch all the references to Exodus 8:2 thruought the film just for fun. What seems like a random, pointless way to end a film is indeed a spiritual catharsis, a miracle which improbability forces everyone to reasses their feelings, values and beliefs.

     MAGNOLIA delivers on raining upon us the ever-important significance of spiritual currencies: It's what we give. It's what we lose. It's what we want. It's what we need. It's what we hate. It's what we love. It's what we left behind. It's what we'll never completely understand.