Seb’s review published on Letterboxd:
The last shot of The Master lingers in my mind for many reasons. I think about how Freddie lost Doris. How Freddie cant fit the ceramic woman in his coat pocket. How he goes from a beach in WW2, to a department store, to a lettuce field, to the sea, to the walls of Helen's living room, to the desert, to Doris's house, to the movie theatre, to the sea again, to England, to the sand sculpture.
He never really gets anywhere, and yet he goes everywhere.
to quote Christopher Orr's review of The Master : "Constant motion is itself a kind of stasis, the last trap of a wandering soul, the endless wake of a boat to nowhere."
He makes no progress in his search for a home. He will never have his Doris, no matter how many ceramic dolls he pockets or sand sculptures he crafts. It's a deeply sad realisation in the final shot of an otherworldly film.