A powerful sense of letdown hangs over the pseudonymous Scientology prehistory “The Master.” It’s impossible not to wonder what more might have come of the mating of director Paul Thomas Anderson with the self-made myth of the certifiable failed science fiction writer L. Ron Hubbard. Anderson has made several terrific films and at least one masterpiece, “Magnolia.” He’s a director of towering, Tarantino-esque vision, but throughout “The Master” his set pieces lack the impact to match their solemnity. At 138 minutes, I couldn’t wait for it to end.
