Mr. Tarantino is well-known and highly respected for making brainy yet sensual nostalgic metakitsch, that seeks to recapture a raw aesthetic that wildly flourished in yesteryear.
His devotion to the genres is quite commendable, and when it works, a film for the ages, at least I'll keep watching Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, and Inglourious Basterds throughout my life, and will be up for checking out his other films one if not several more times, it's possible I missed something the first shocking run through.
With Licorice Pizza, Paul Thomas Anderson also seems to be seeking to resuscitate a bygone aesthetic, but it's difficult to determine if his attempt is genuine, in fact at times it seems as if he's subtly lampooning attempts to resuscitate bygone aesthetics themselves, unless I completely missed something, if this film's meant to be taken seriously, my apologies.
I've missed new music in my life since the pandemic started and cut me off from my favourite festivals, I can always search for new music online, but I'm still kind of old school, I like to head out to find it.
The lack of new or old music I've never heard before in my life has made me highly susceptible to catchy songs I hear on television, even if at a later date I can't believe I was sucked in.
But that didn't happen with Licorice Pizza. It's soundtrack isn't classic Tarantino. I was confused by Bowie's Life on Mars which is an amazing song, but the rest of the music left me unimpressed, even though I'm highly susceptible.
It made me think Anderson was deliberately choosing lacklustre songs to see if he could disingenuously stultify Tarantino's success, perhaps in relation to some harmless wager between the two, although it could also just be a simple matter of preference, but my sensors were somewhat bewildered, due to my heightened susceptibility.
Some of the situations weren't particularly captivating as well, like struggling to find gas during a fuel crisis, or trying to sell waterbeds.
Was Anderson subtly lampooning an aesthetic he developed (I'm not that familiar with his films)?
The title also seems like something someone would come up with if they were trying to playfully criticize a technique or style they didn't genuinely respect, like something one of the male co-stars Anderson consistently critiques in the film for having no class would have come up with, and tried to laud as if it was something exceptionally astounding, which it isn't.
The ending's still quite well done, a traditional elevation of newfound love modestly blossoming amidst scandalous tomfoolery.
My apologies again if this was meant to be taken seriously.
Otherwise, a metacritical masterpiece.
