I saw The Master for the second time last night, and was once again delighted. On the way home in the car I started developing my impression of Joaquin Pheonix as Freddie Quell….muh!…neeeee-heeee! It’s not easy, but the main thing is to jut your chin out and purse your lips like (a) you’ve just had a sip of pure lemon juice and (b) you’re about to play the trumpet. And then think like a backyard geek and imagine you’re some kind of impulslve, grinning, slithery reptile.
Don’t flick your Freddy tongue but think it — imagine that you’re a bullfrog and you’re looking to shoot your tongue out and slurp down a fly but don’t actually do it.
Be quiet and watchful and compulsively sip from a flask. Tilt your head slightly in the presence of any woman you’d like to fuck, and lean inward and go “heeehhuhhhmm.” And always blurt your words out with a lazy, sloppy slur. Never say “I don’t know” — say “Uhdunnoh.” And then say “eeeeeuuuhhhnnnh” again. And then moan a little bit. And then giggle. And take another swig.