Metacritic reviews

At its best, Magnolia towers over most Hollywood films this year.

Part poem, part jungle blossom, all brilliance.

What leaves you breathless, though, is the knockout acting by the cast.

The most imperfect of the year's best movies, Magnolia's flaws are easily forgiven because they are the result of go-for-broke ambition.

Anderson's big, showy flower of a movie unfurls brilliantly, each plot petal a thing of exquisite design. Then it ripens. Then it disintegrates, leaving a mess of color and a faint whiff of rot.

It's astonishing to see a film begin this brilliantly only to torpedo itself in its final hour.

Anderson, 29, does so much in Magnolia, with such nerve, with wily humor and out-of-the-blue bravado, that the film's flaws and lapses don't really matter. It ain't perfect, but it's awe-inspiring.

None of the characters in Magnolia feel as vividly imagined as the porn stars and filmmakers and hangers-on of "Boogie Nights."

I went into Magnolia like a kid running onto a beach with a pail and shovel ready to explore, only to find myself neck deep in quicksand three hours later, screaming for help.

A three-hour-and-10-minute exercise in slight characterization, pointlessly showy editing and vapid plotting.