This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
(Note: this is more of a personal essay than a review, but for me, with this particular film, that’s probably unavoidable.)
According to my 1999 journal, my entire reaction to Magnolia—my 376th theatrical screening of the year—was: “Great fucking film. Three fucking hours. Not actually sure why it’s called Magnolia.”
I didn’t know it at the time, but the film had its hooks in me. Just over two weeks later, as 1999 rolled over into 2000 and the digital plague…