Licorice Pizza: An Infectiously Freewheeling Romantic Hangout Film
The story of Alana Kane and Gary Valentine growing up, running around and going through the treacherous navigation of first love in the San Fernando Valley, 1973.
Don’t be fooled by its interestingly odd title; Licorice Pizza is a delightfully appetizing dish, one that serves up hilariously entertaining slices of youth, love, and life. It’s sure to fill you up and may even induce a slight warming sensation near the heart. You’ll find notes of Inherent Vice, Punch-Drunk Love, and Phantom Thread, with a hint of Boogie Nights peeking through, and shades of American Graffiti, Wages Of Fear, and Taxi Driver, with vague glimmers of Once Upon A Time … In Hollywood, too.
It’s PTA’s most loosely reined and carefree endeavors, and it bounces about like an easygoing pinball ricocheting from bumper to bumper. It’s an exciting movie-going experience because you never quite know where it’ll take you next, and you’re often pleasantly surprised by the direction it veers in and fully enamored by its quirky characters, sweetly charming push-and-pull romance, and magnetic performances. Anderson also filters the whole freewheeling meander through the sun-soaked memory of his youth to create a dreamy nostalgic haze that further adds to the allure. Combine that with its period verve and expertly curated soundtrack, and the whole thing goes down oh so smooth.
In typical PTA fashion, the film fundamentally centers itself around the relationships, both romantic and familial, of its likeably flawed characters who make bold claims as they enter one another’s orbit. In the case of Licorice Pizza, the relationship is between 25-year-old photographer’s assistant, Alana (played by Alana Haim), and 15-year-old “song and dance man” hustler, Gary (played by Cooper Hoffman), which sort of makes it an inverted companion piece to Sean Baker’s Red Rocket, interestingly enough. Aside from the age gap, there’s a sea of other differences that divide Alana and Gary’s friendship, but like they say, “opposites attract,” and no matter the chain of events, the two snap back together like magnets, romantically running toward one another as enthusiastically as they sometimes try to drive one another away. But Licorice Pizza isn’t just about youthful romance; there’s a lot of substance below the surface, baked into the period crust of the lip-smacking ‘zza PTA concocts.
Although the film centers around both Gary and Alana, Alana essentially becomes our main character. She’s not totally lacking the confidence that Gary has in spades, but she’s more lost in the world than he ever seems to be. The world here is a “Man’s world,” one that tends to objectify Alana, and PTA casually highlights the absurdity of a woman’s experience in an era where it was normal to get a smack on the ass in the workplace, a world where men were openly racist and pridefully misogynistic. Alana is stuck in that place, and she sits between two generations; an older one that views her as a piece of meat (like Bradley Cooper’s Jon Peters) or doesn’t even see her at all (like Sean Penn’s Jack Holden), or a younger one that sees her for who she is, as a person, and who maybe — just maybe — won’t turn out to be so selfish or sleazy. There’s a moment that really exemplifies this when the moving truck full of Fat Bernie’s merch runs out of gas. Alana sits on the curb. To her right, she sees Gary and his friends with gas cans in a juvenile silhouette. To her left, Cooper’s Jon Peters smashes a store window in rage and storms off, only to double back after a few skirts to ask them if they “like peanut butter sandwiches.”
Another thing that makes Licorice Pizza fun is thinking about it as a sly origin story to Punch-Drunk Love’s “Mattress Man,” who was of course played by Cooper Hoffman’s late father Philip Seymour Hoffman. There’s a bit more than blood that connect Gary Valentine to “The Mattress Man”; there’s streaks of the same behavior. Both share an entrepreneurial spirit (even in the realm of beds) and talk big when the threat isn’t around (it’s easy to see “The Mattress Man” talking so much shit after Sandler’s Barry leaves, just as Gary does with Jon Peters).
In short, it’s a really magical and enchanting cinematic experience that only gets a bit tripped up in its very last moments. We think the last line is unnecessary (but not enough to a fault), but other than that, like its title implies, Licorice Pizza combines sweet and savory indulgences and seemingly disparate ingredients into a surprisingly satisfying dish that covers the full palate. Dig in and dig it!
Recommendation: If you love PTA hangout films or are a fan of palpable films about young love, you absolutely need to see Licorice Pizza. It’s infectiously charming, full of magic, and ranks amongst the best of 2021’s offerings.
Rating: 5 gas shortages outta 5.
Hungry for more?! Check out the links below:
Phantom Thread review
5 Fun Facts About Punch-Drunk Love
Five Fun Facts From The Once Upon A Time ... In Hollywood Q&A w/PTA & QT
What do you think? We want to know. Share your thoughts and feelings in the comments section below, and as always, remember to viddy well!