Licorice pizza: our Californian girls

CRITICAL – Paul Thomas Anderson’s new film takes us to the heart of the 1970s in a heartwarming love story.

He is 15 years old. He does more. She’s 22. She looks less. Gary meets Alana during a class photo. She assists the professional. The teenager will never let go. He runs after her, in every sense of the word. In 1973, the boys of the San Fernando Valley wore chunky striped t-shirts and sported a Beach Boys-style bowl cut. This redhead has it under his feet. Having been a child actor allows him to be daring. He invites the brunette in a miniskirt to the restaurant, has a hell of a nerve, asks her to accompany him to a show in New York. At home, curiosity wins. They will take two hours and a few to fall into each other’s arms. This is the correct average.

At that time, Tinder did not exist. The hero of Licorice Pizza successfully launches into the water mattress business (later it will be pinball machines). He has a knack for business. She can’t believe it, marinates it. He wants to see her breasts. She refuses to show them to him. Why then, then …

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