{'fraction_non_alphanumeric': 0.024164889836531627, 'fraction_numerical': 0.0042643923240938165, 'mean_word_length': 5.342342342342342, 'pattern_counts': {'":': 0, '<': 0, '<?xml version=': 0, '>': 0, 'https://': 0, 'lorem ipsum': 0, 'www.': 0, 'xml': 0}, 'pii_count': 0, 'substrings_counts': 0, 'word_list_counts': {'cursed_substrings.json': 0, 'profanity_word_list.json': 0, 'sexual_word_list.json': 0, 'zh_pornsignals.json': 0}}
Isolation and connection: unbounded sound in the films of Paul Thomas Anderson

When Paul Thomas Anderson's The Master was released in September of 2012, many critics hailed it for its inventive and spellbinding filmmaking while simultaneously noting – and often criticizing – its enigmatic and perplexing narrative. This article argues that one can most productively understand and explore The Master in two ways: (1) as an entry in Anderson's larger oeuvre, and (2) as an unusual instance in US filmmaking in which much of the film's meaning emerges via sound–image relationships and music rather than character action, dialogue and narrative development. In particular, I focus on Anderson's use of what I call unbounded sound, which refers to sound whose source cannot be definitively pinpointed within the film frame. This term encompasses offscreen diegetic sound, but it also includes nondiegetic sound and sound that occupies an ambiguous space between the diegetic and nondiegetic poles. Throughout his career, Anderson's soundtracks – and especially his uses of unbounded sound – have helped convey key ideas pertaining to human isolation and connectedness, two key Anderson thematic preoccupations. Attending to sound patterns in Anderson's prior work can help shed new light on the sometimes-obscure ideas that drive The Master, as well as offer broader indications of film sound's capabilities.