There Will Be Blood

In an article I read recently, an author whose name I don't remember expressed a feeling of giddiness at watching P.T. Anderson's There Will Be Blood because it showed the two chief constituencies of the conservative movement, businessmen and evangelists, at each other's throats. That left me wondering whether that was an intentional effect of the film. I would find out this afternoon at a packed Spectrum Theater in Albany.

The film is based (loosely, I hear) on a novel by Upton Sinclair, the muckraking author of The Jungle. I haven't read Oil!, so I can't say if the principal characters, the oilman played by Daniel Day-Lewis and the evangelist played by Paul Dano, are the same in book and film. Sinclair was an American-style socialist, so I'm sure he saw neither man as a positive character. The dynamic of their relationship in Anderson's film does seem as if it was constructed to be understood in 21st century political terms, because the theme of the businessman exploiting the believer (no hero himself) is one of the few elements that holds the film together.

Compared to Anderson's intricately plotted earlier films like Magnolia, TWBB seems relatively loosely assembled and overlong, although it's nearly half an hour shorter than Magnolia. The film drags in the middle as it takes up the storyline of a man who claims to be the oilman's long-lost brother. You wonder what the point is, apart from again showing that the oilman is rotten, until you get to the controversial ending. Without giving away details that have outraged some reviewers, the ending echoes the earlier scenes with the alleged brother, since by then the evangelist is also declaring himself to be the oilman's brother. Part of the point of the film seems to be that the oilman is no man's brother, in either a genetic or a spiritual sense, but this is a theme that becomes apparent only at the end, when the oilman, arguably, plays Cain.

The film is more of a character portrait than a tightly-plotted story. It's a rare showcase for Daniel Day-Lewis, who brings old-school thespian power to his performance the same way he did as Bill the Butcher in Scorsese's Gangs of New York. He deserves all the kudos, nominations and awards he's gotten so far, especially since his acting is the glue that holds the film together. Also exemplary is Paul Dano as the evangelist (and briefly as his twin -- add that to the brother theme). As an actor Dano is unafraid to look pathetic and weak and scream like a girl when the role demands it.

For his part, Anderson parallels the Coen Bros. by doing away with his stock company (P.S. Hoffman, J.C. Reilly, P. B. Hall, etc.) in order to strike a fresh, somber note in his work. He has a masterful sense of landscape and creates an utterly convincing period piece. His only lapse comes at the end, when the evangelist says he's been wiped out in the stock market crash in a scene dated on-screen as 1927. The first hour of TWBB is probably the best pure moviemaking I've seen from 2007, especially since much of it is done without dialogue. Overall, though, I think it has to rank behind Magnolia and about equal to Boogie Nights among his best films.

About the ending: the Spectrum audience responded to it with what I took to be appreciative laughter, although the intent isn't comedic. I think filmmaker and audience alike saw it as an opportunity to let off steam. It serves as a final condemnation of both protagonists, rendering both of them pathetic before ending with abrupt brutality. To come back to where I started, you can definitely make a case that, by ending it as he did (and not, as I'm told, how Sinclair ended his novel) Anderson is making a contemporary political point. The oilman had already rendered himself utterly despicable by his last scene with his adopted son, so all that needed to be said about him had been said before the evangelist appears. While audiences may well see what follows as a rightful comeuppance for another despicable character, or (as some have) as a moment of senseless, shark-jumping excess, I think a political interpretation is the only one that justifies ending the film as Anderson did. I can envision Mike Huckabee leaving the theater (he'd go because there's only one mild swear word and no nudity in the picture) nodding his head slightly in affirmation, if he actually understood it as some have.

Despite my reservations, I strongly recommend There Will Be Blood for anyone who appreciates sweeping film style and brilliant acting. It definitely ends up in my Top 5 for 2007, but I haven't sorted out the final arrangement yet.