Turns out I did see it when it came out via a DGA screener - back in 2014, I think. Here's what I wrote:
Last night, I watched Inherent Vice, a motion picture directed by Paul Thomas Anderson, based on a novel by Thomas Pynchon. I know I’m supposed to think Mr. Pynchon is a brilliant writer but, alas, I don’t. The film is quirky, weird, occasionally amusing, boring, irritating and ultimately a big load of, well, for me, nothing. It takes place in 1970 and involves a private investigator who is also stoned at every opportunity with the Mary Jane cigarettes. Now, I loathe any kind of drugs so obviously I was never going to like this film because they smoke, oh, hundreds of marijuana cigarettes during the very long 148 minute running time. I had no interest in that stuff in 1970 and even less now. I suppose that’s nostalgic for a lot of people who did that sort of thing. There is some kind of silly mystery in the story, but it’s really meaningless – the film is like a jazz riff that just goes on and on and on and on in a haze of California smog and dope. By the 100-minute mark I just wanted it to be over. I can’t really stand the film’s leading man and he’s as irritating to me here as he was in this same director’s last film, The Master. For me, the whole thing was like substandard Terry Southern by way of The Big Lebowsky, another movie I don’t like. The character names are of the cutesy kind that are supposed to be rollicking to someone, but for me it just precludes me from taking any of the story seriously – maybe they don’t want me to, but then why do I need to sit there for two-and-a-half hours? To give you an example – one character lives on a street called Gummo Marx Way. I mean, really.
