At the Movies: There Will Be Blood
This one's been percolating in my head for a while now. I saw the movie just after the New Year, and haven't yet had the opportunity to post, but here it is, at last.
This film is a singular, unrelenting, superbly crafted piece of cinema driven by an auteur's voice and vision. It is the best film of the year and easily belongs in the canon of great American masterpieces. It is technically and thematically challenging, intentionally emotionally difficult, sprawling and intimate and fused with an energy that shimmers on every frame.
It is not always an easy film, or a film that makes easy choices. I, personally, did not agree with a lot of the major narrative shifts in the second half of the film, but I understand why they were made and why they were taken. Perhaps I wanted an easier way out. Either way, my personal disagreements with the narrative in no way diminish the accomplishment of Paul Thomas Anderson's work. In fact, I suspect that when I see it again, my objections to some of the narrative choices will fade.
The story is American to its core: a hybrid of the American Dream and Moby Dick, ostensibly about the pursuit of oil and riches and making it big on the expanses of the rugged and beautiful American West. The film is anchored by its Ahab: Daniel Day-Lewis in a colossal performance as Daniel Plainview, a man who builds an empire as he destroys everything and everyone around him. In his pursuit of success, his pursuit of oil, his pursuit of perfection, he transforms from a man with ingenuity, charisma and drive to simply a madman. His performance is so thorough, so utterly convincing and theatrical at the same time it's nearly impossible to see the actor in the role.
The direction is astonishing: utterly controlled and expansive, infusing every moment of the film with a restless energy, juxtaposing our understanding of the visual iconography on screen with the counterpoint of the narrative. The directorial choices work on multiple levels and, while seemingly at odds with each other sometimes (the images versus the words versus the music versus the iconography of the images), everything works towards the same goal, the same story, the same fantastically well-created world.
Johnny Greenwood's score is easily the best I've heard in a film in a very, very long time. Atonal yet beautiful, it too drives the film, creating tension throughout, unrelenting as Plainview is in his pursuit. It's a shame that the Academy barred it from consideration for Best Score as small pieces of it were used in a non-theatrically released short film last year.
The film contains easily the most intense sequence I've seen since the end of United 93: the striking of oil on a derrick and its subsequent, tragic, destruction. This sequence alone would make the film tower above all others this year. In the context of the film, it is the turning point, the crucible through which all actions have passed and will pass in the narrative, and it's astonishing.
As I mentioned, it's not always an easy or likable film. It is a major work from a major filmmaker. I can't quite equate it with Citizen Kane, as some leading critics have done. I can say that it's great and important art, that it must be seen, and that in 20 years it will be considered of the true achievements of American cinema.
