Paul Thomas Anderson’s Licorice Pizza is a weird, sweaty, beautiful fever dream. It’s a movie about running—literally running everywhere—and the kind of teenage ambition that only exists before the internet. When Gary Valentine approaches Alana Kane at that high school picture day, he’s not just a kid hitting on an older woman; he’s the embodiment of a specific type of California chaos. People finished that movie and immediately wanted more. But "more" doesn't just mean "rom-coms." It means movies that feel like a memory you can't quite place, or a record that skips at the best part. Finding movies like Licorice Pizza requires looking at films that prioritize vibes, texture, and the awkwardness of growing up over a traditional, neat plot.
Honestly, the magic of the film isn't just the 1973 setting. It's the aimlessness. It’s the way the camera lingers on a waterbed or the sound of a truck stalling out on a hill. If you're looking for that same feeling, you have to look at movies that understand the "hangout" genre.
The San Fernando Valley Soul of Boogie Nights
You can’t talk about Licorice Pizza without talking about PTA’s other love letter to the Valley. Boogie Nights is the darker, more drug-fueled cousin. It’s 1977 instead of 1973. While Gary Valentine is selling waterbeds and pinball machines, Dirk Diggler is becoming a star in a much different industry. Both films share a kinetic energy.
The cinematography by Robert Elswit in Boogie Nights—and Anderson’s own work in Licorice Pizza—captures that hazy, golden-hour light that makes the smoggy San Fernando Valley look like a kingdom. There's a specific scene in Boogie Nights where the characters are just hanging out by a pool, and the dialogue feels so lived-in it’s almost uncomfortable. That’s the DNA. If you loved the sprawling ensemble and the feeling that anything could happen at a party, this is the first stop. It’s longer, more violent, and definitely more tragic, but the soul is identical.
Almost Famous and the High of Being Young
Cameron Crowe’s Almost Famous hits that same sweet spot of 1970s nostalgia, but it trades the Valley for the back of a tour bus. It’s based on Crowe’s real life as a teenage journalist for Rolling Stone. William Miller is, in many ways, Gary Valentine’s spiritual brother. He’s a kid in a world of adults, trying to look like he belongs while his voice is still cracking.
The movie captures that "just on the edge of greatness" feeling. You've got the soundtrack—which is legendary—and the costume design that makes you want to go buy a shearling coat immediately. But at its core, it's about the relationship between William and Penny Lane. Like Alana and Gary, their bond is messy and ill-defined. It’s not a standard romance. It’s a shared experience of a moment in time that they both know won't last.
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Why Dazed and Confused is the Ultimate Hangout Movie
Richard Linklater is the king of the "nothing happens, but everything happens" movie. Dazed and Confused takes place on the last day of school in 1976. There is no real plot. No one is trying to save the world. They’re just trying to find a party and avoid getting paddled by the seniors.
This is arguably the closest you’ll get to the Licorice Pizza vibe. It’s all about the texture of the era. The cars. The bell-bottoms. The way people actually talked back then. Linklater used a lot of non-professional actors or then-unknowns (like a very young Matthew McConaughey), which gives the film an authentic, documentary-like feel. When you watch Gary Valentine run across a parking lot, it feels like he could run right into the background of a Linklater film.
The Criterion Gem: Smithereens
If you want something a bit more underground, Susan Seidelman’s 1982 film Smithereens is a must-watch. It’s set in the punk-rock debris of New York City rather than California, but the protagonist, Wren, has that same relentless, annoying, brilliant hustle that Gary Valentine has. She’s a striver. She’s printing up posters of herself and trying to break into a scene that doesn't really want her. It captures a very specific urban decay that feels like the flip side of the sun-drenched Valley. It’s grittier, sure. But the "kid with a dream and no plan" energy is identical.
Lady Bird and the Modern Coming-of-Age
Not all movies like Licorice Pizza are set in the 70s. Greta Gerwig’s Lady Bird is set in 2002 Sacramento, but it shares that deep, personal connection to a specific place. It’s "California-adjacent." The relationship between Lady Bird and her mother is the anchor, but the movie is really about that desperate urge to be someone before you even know who you are.
The humor is sharp. It’s fast. Like Alana Kane, Lady Bird is often her own worst enemy. She makes mistakes, she’s occasionally mean, and she’s intensely relatable. It’s a movie that understands that being young is often just a series of embarrassing performances until you finally stumble into being yourself.
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The Overlooked Masterpiece: 20th Century Women
Mike Mills’ 20th Century Women is a masterpiece of tone. Set in Santa Barbara in 1979, it follows a mother (Annette Bening) who enlists two younger women to help raise her adolescent son. It’s a "vibe" movie in the best sense. The colors are saturated, the music—ranging from Black Flag to Talking Heads—is perfect, and the dialogue feels like poetry overheard in a hallway.
It deals with the transition from the 70s into the 80s, capturing that sense of cultural shift. There’s a scene where they discuss the "Jimmy Carter Malaise" speech that feels surprisingly relevant to the aimlessness felt in Licorice Pizza. It’s a movie about how people shape each other through conversation and shared art.
Why the "Vibe" Matters More Than the Plot
Most people looking for movies like Licorice Pizza aren't looking for a story about waterbeds. They’re looking for a feeling. Film critics often call these "liminal space" movies or "loose-narrative" films. They rely on "deep focus" cinematography and long takes to make the world feel lived-in. When Alana is driving that U-Haul truck backward down a hill in the dark, the tension doesn't come from a villain. It comes from the sheer audacity of the moment.
- Look for "Auteur" Filmmakers: Directors like Anderson, Linklater, and Gerwig have a specific "handwriting."
- Focus on Period Pieces with Low Stakes: The best ones don't try to explain the whole decade; they just show a small corner of it.
- Check the Soundtrack: Often, these movies are built around the music first.
Once Upon a Time in Hollywood: The Parallel Universe
Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time in Hollywood is basically the high-budget version of this specific brand of nostalgia. It’s 1969. It’s Los Angeles. It’s a lot of driving around listening to the radio. While it has a much more violent climax, the bulk of the movie is just Rick Dalton and Cliff Booth existing in a version of Hollywood that was about to disappear.
The level of detail is staggering. Tarantino recreated entire blocks of Hollywood Boulevard. It has that same "hangout" quality where you’re happy to just sit in the car with the characters. It’s about the end of an era, whereas Licorice Pizza feels like the messy middle of one.
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American Graffiti: The Blueprint
We have to go back to 1973—the same year Licorice Pizza is set—to find the movie that started it all. George Lucas’s American Graffiti is the original "one night in the life" California movie. It follows a group of teenagers cruising the streets of Modesto in 1962.
The film was revolutionary because it used a non-stop soundtrack of pop hits to drive the emotion. It’s the direct ancestor of every movie on this list. Without the success of American Graffiti, we probably don't get the funding for these kinds of personal, nostalgic dramas. It captures that bittersweet feeling of knowing that your friend group is about to split up and everything is about to change.
Breaking Down the Gary Valentine Archetype
What makes Gary so compelling is that he’s a "hustler" who hasn't been jaded by the world yet. You see this in The Flamingo Kid (1984), where Matt Dillon plays a kid working at a beach club in the 60s. He’s seduced by the fast-talking, wealthy car dealer played by Richard Crenna. It’s a movie about class, ambition, and the realization that your heroes are often just guys looking for a shortcut.
Actionable Steps for the Ultimate Nostalgia Binge
If you want to truly dive into this cinematic world, don't just watch them randomly. There’s a way to experience these that makes the connections clearer.
- Start with the "Valley Trilogy": Watch American Graffiti, then Licorice Pizza, then Boogie Nights. This gives you a chronological look at the evolution of the California dream from 1962 to 1977.
- Listen to the Radio: Pay attention to how the radio is used in these films. In the 70s, the radio was the social glue. Try finding the original radio spots from KHJ Los Angeles on YouTube to hear what Gary and Alana would have actually been listening to between songs.
- Explore the "Slow Cinema" of the 70s: If you liked the long takes, check out Robert Altman’s The Long Goodbye. It’s a private-eye movie, but it has that same wandering, sun-bleached LA energy.
- Read the Real History: Look up the history of "The Candy Shop" and the real Gary Goetzman, who the character of Gary Valentine is based on. Goetzman is now a massive producer (he works with Tom Hanks), and his real-life stories are even crazier than what’s in the movie.
The best movies like Licorice Pizza are the ones that make you feel homesick for a place you’ve never actually been. They are about the friction of being young and the weird, non-linear way that life actually happens. No one's life follows a three-act structure. It’s just a series of jobs, crushes, and running down the street at midnight because you have nowhere else to go.