Licorice Pizza

... As perversely delicious as its title.

Really stands up alongside (Anderson’s best work). It feels authentic for the time, and gives us a new star in Cooper Hoffman

Licorice Pizza, like Phantom Thread, is a study of magnetic human connection that isn’t necessarily good for either party — but then, magnetic human connection rarely thinks that way, or thinks at all.

It’s a joy, and the sort of film that like a great LP -- it’s named after a Californian record store -- you’ll want to play over and over.

Theres a looseness a dreaminess, an illogic to how it all unfolds and meanders that is somehow still incredibly authentic.

The two leads, musician Alana Haim and Cooper Hoffman, each in their feature film debut, are remarkable.

It is a grand, fun, romantic ride, that I guess will provide even more greatness on rewatch.

Nothing really happens, but the leads are really likable.

Licorice Pizza is nostalgic and heartfelt, funny, and wise. A change of pace from Anderson’s impressive filmography, yet it is still recognizably his. It may be a minor key compared to some of his other works, but it’s a song that you’ll enjoy playing.


Licorice Pizza offers a collage of many quirky subcultures and larger-than-life characters, some more effective than others.