9/10

Over his 25-year career, Paul Thomas Anderson has quietly crafted an album’s worth of music videos, the best of which capture an ethereal, dreamlike quality shared with his recent feature films, especially The Master and Phantom Thread. Like those movies, ANIMA, Anderson’s newest one-reeler with Thom Yorke, is a delicate balance between thought and feeling, logic and emotion. ANIMA differs from them, however, by tipping its scales entirely to the surreal, resulting in a beguiling and beatific work of art. It’s Anderson’s best contribution to the music world to date.

Its closest analogue is his music video for Radiohead’s ‘Daydreaming’, also starring Yorke, which features the singer aimlessly walking through doorways, eventually climbing a mountain summit where he finds a cave to sleep in. It’s a dark and contemplative piece, allegedly about Yorke’s breakup with ex-wife Rachel Owen, who died of cancer in 2016 (after the song and video were released). The video is regretful and melancholic but ultimately unknowable, its deeper meaning reserved for Yorke alone.

ANIMA, then, is an upbeat sequel to ‘Daydreaming’ – a patient love story in three acts, told through three songs from Yorke’s newest solo album, also called ANIMA. Like its predecessor, it’s a relentless dreamscape that keeps you at a distance. Thankfully, the film still makes this much clear: Yorke is in a better place.

Instead of its star drifting asleep, ANIMA’s first act features Yorke and real-life girlfriend Dajana Roncione waking up. The two sit separately on a busy bus; they soon lock eyes for the first time. The on-the-nose casting is purposeful: while ‘Daydreaming’ gazes backward, ANIMA is an idyllic look ahead, a space for Anderson and Yorke to capture the spark of a new relationship and wonder aloud how it will end.

The second act is a hero’s journey of sorts, as Yorke scales one more (figurative) mountain in search of the woman from the bus. He battles the elements to find his future love, whose visage lies ahead. By the third act and final song, Yorke and Roncione finally meet, engaging in a delicate and beautifully choreographed dance which culminates back on that bus, Yorke again drifting to sleep. The end is the beginning is the end.

Shot by Iranian-French cinematographer Darius Khondji, ANIMA is a marvel to look at, especially during its final stretch, when our lovers frolic through dimly-lit city streets and empty parks. It’s one of the prettiest moments in Anderson’s entire filmography. There’s no telling when he’ll get back to making feature films, or when Yorke will get back to Radiohead. ANIMA suggests that neither should be in a hurry.