Across the years, Paul Thomas Anderson's films have earned nine acting Oscar nominations, including a win for Daniel Day-Lewis in There Will Be Blood. It's fair to say that actors love the director. Why shouldn't they? While these movies' leading players earn prizes, every part, no matter how small, is written with complexity, directed, and framed with attention. Indeed, some of the best performances come from those bit players, sometimes glorified cameos, sometimes supporting roles within a sprawling cast. If you've seen his latest, you'll know that, beyond Alana Haim and Cooper Hoffman, Licorice Pizza is almost entirely made up of such actorly turns.
With that in mind, a list of favorite unheralded performances from PTA's filmography. These are thespians who earned no accolades for their work, beyond ensemble prizes, and whose roles tend towards the diminutive. But, of course, as these ten master artists make evident, there are no small parts, only small actors…
10) Philip Seymour Hoffman in HARD EIGHT
Maybe the most essential partnership Anderson ever forged with an actor was his creative bond with Philip Seymour Hoffman. For their first collaboration, the thespian is asked to play personified obnoxiousness and deliver. A gambler's bravado could have been performed purely for laughs, but both creatives go for something more discomforting and insidious. On-screen, Hoffman projects boisterous cruelty that feels filthy and leaves you feeling oily long after his brief screen time is over.
9) Jena Malone in INHERENT VICE
Hope Harlingen's husband is dead, or so she's been told. Suspicious circumstances and an inexplicable money transfer have made this rehabilitated heroin addict doubtful. That's how she comes into Doc Sportello's world, as a new client who's more than willing to share her life's sordid details with the PI. Instead of underlining the misery implied in her lines, Malone delivers the spiel lightly, suggesting a woman who's spent eons reflecting upon her bad choices. In her wide white smile, we see the therapeutic cheeriness of a teen counselor. In her candid speech, we hear a mysterious dissonance that complements and disrupts Inherent Vice's symphony of oddities.
8) Melinda Dillon in MAGNOLIA
Like almost everyone on this list, Dillon only has that one big scene, a single chance to construct a person and make them a reality to the spectator. The actress does this effortlessly, repudiating the temptation to show off, playing the long-suffering wife of a TV host. As her husband lies there, cancerous and dying, she questions him. Confessions of past infidelities spring forth, but she wants more. She wants to know if he ever molested their daughter. He can't answer. In his moribund ailment, he forgot. All at once, the simmering anger explodes though this no woman used to shouting matches or confrontations. Even when storming off, Dillon holds back, her voice breaks before it can scream, her cruel words feel disciplined, strangled.
7) Alfred Molina in BOOGIE NIGHTS
Besides being a bit of a slut, everyone knows that Alfred Molina is also something of a smoked honey-glazed ham. The best directors know how to use that tendency towards maximalism, whether by demanding discipline or indulging in exuberance. PTA follows that second path, letting Molina chew the scenery to a pulp as he terrifies both the on-screen characters and the off-screen audience. His one-scene performance is a drugged-out marvel, Scarface played as farce.
6) Kevin J. O'Connor in THERE WILL BE BLOOD
"Who are you? – I'm no one." Henry is a stranger who comes with news of death and brotherly connection, a newcomer to Daniel Plainview's sordid cosmos of oil and hateful religion, capitalism and church. O'Connor plays the imposter sibling as a figure constantly beset by the panic of being found out. Each word comes trembling out of his mouth, but there's a veil of personable kindness that disarms the viewer and, indeed, Daniel Day-Lewis' diabolical oilman. He doesn't last for long in this epic narrative, though his specter prevails. Like a deaf adopted son, Daniel's false brother illuminates the frail humanity within the dark depths of his soul. It's character-building as sad reflection, a flickering lantern that's soon put out, snuffed, dead and buried.
5) Robert Ridgely in BOOGIE NIGHTS
While Robert Ridgley is in the background of several of Boogie Nights' wildest sequences, the camera only gives him a place of privilege in two instances. These moments delineate an astonishing tonal about-face, from self-satisfied comedy to overwhelming shame. First, as the Colonel, Ridgely gets to greedily examine Dirk's Diggler during the pool party, his eyes shining with invisible dollar signs. Later, behind bars, there's a plaintive quality to Ridgely's work, a desperate man begging an old friend to acknowledge him, to show mercy in the face of beastly truths.
4) Laura Dern in THE MASTER
With one of the great mini-arcs within PTA's collection of unsung thespians, Laura Dern gets to show a tremendous evolution as her character goes from proselytizing believer to a woman wracked with doubt. At first, Helen Sullivan shares the word of Lancaster Dodd with feverish devotion, her speech airy, her voice a whispery prayer even when talking normally. But then, the second book arrives, full of contradictions and betrayals. Asking her idol questions, she gets screams and admonitions. In that last scene, Dern elaborates a journey, light questioning that turns into terror. Finally, she leaves with a look of brokenness, a shadow over those eyes that once shone with blind faith.
3) Harriet Sansom Harris in PHANTOM THREAD & LICORICE PIZZA
It's about time Anderson writes a vehicle for Harris as a leading lady. For two films in a row, she has appeared out of nowhere to deliver a masterpiece of nervous acting, discombobulating before the camera and setting the screen aflame. In Phantom Thread, her Barbara Rose is a boozy disaster on legs, melting in pools of self-pity as Reynolds Woodcock fits her a new gown. And yet, as he tries to escape social obligations, she's quick to assert her power over the couturier. Artists obey their patrons, not the other way around. It's very much a performance that shines brightest in its line readings, grotesque pronouncements about her appearance and sincerity. In contrast, her Licorice Pizza talent agent lives and dies on the plasticity of the actress's face. A twitch here, a tremor there, color a quasi-mercenary dialogue. Alana Haim may be winning the prizes, but the greatest performance in PTA's newest flick is Harris', no doubt about it.
2) April Grace in MAGNOLIA
Though she isn't in much of the movie, April Grace has one of the trickiest roles in Magnolia. As an unflappable interviewer, the actress shares all her scenes with Tom Cruise's bombastic pickup artist and primarily functions as an observer and listener. She's not one for passive reactions, though, dominating the conversation with utmost control. Anderson lets the camera gaze upon Grace at crucial moments as Gwenovier listens to her interviewee's feckless fumbling, his misogynistic rants, and evasions. This way, we can appreciate how she assimilates information. We see how the character silently sharpens her weapons of journalistic dissection, how the actress steals the spotlight through her masterful projection of intelligence.
1) Joanna Gleason in BOOGIE NIGHTS
What drives a mother to hate her child? This question rings through one's mind during the two short scenes Joanna Gleason has in Boogie Nights. Playing Mark Wahlberg's mom, she first appears as a boilerplate nag, inquiring about her kid's job, his girlfriend, his future. However, there's a tension to every line delivery, a monstrous mix of sexual anxiety and resentment. Later, when the future Dirk Diggler comes home late, he's welcomed by a terrifying matriarch bathed in blue light, her mouth cruelly twisted. A spasm of anger reverberates as the woman scolds her son, chasing him to a bedroom she immediately starts trashing. It's an abusive nightmare, so thorny in its ugly complexities that an entire epic could be made out of it. Incandescent, it's a performance of such ferocity it haunts the story long after she's exited the scene. Gleason is unforgettable, her genius lying in how believable she makes a character that could have come off cartoony. She's so real it hurts to look at the screen. It burns.
Beyond this top 10 (really a top 11), I ended up writing blurbs for a myriad of other performances while watching all of Paul Thomas Anderson's features. It'd feel wrong not to mention those magnificent actors, even though they didn't make the cut. From Magnolia, there's Pat Healy, Henry Gibson, Cleo King, and Michael Murphy. From Punch-Drunk Love, Mary Lynn Rajskub. From There Will Be Blood, David Willis, and Russell Harvard. From The Master, Christopher Evan Welch. From Inherent Vice, Martin Short, and Gina McKee from Phantom Thread. Finally, from Licorice Pizza, we have Bradley Cooper, Joseph Cross, Christine Ebersole, Skyler Gisondo, and Tom Waits. They all deserve applause, no matter how small their roles might seem.
Who are your favorite scene-stealers from PTA's filmography?