Londoners Magazine

Will Anderson’s There Will Be Blood strike gold? Chris Lo finds out.

There Will Be Blood’s opening scenes might come as a shock for fans of Paul Thomas Anderson’s previous work, whether the youthful exuberance of Boogie Nights or the fraught philosophy of Magnolia.

Anderson’s lens moves lethargically, beginning with a lingering shot on Daniel Plainview (Daniel Day-Lewis) and his solitary excavation of a lonely goldmine.

There’s no dialogue, no music, no speedy editing and it’s new territory for the director as well as the audience.

Based on the 1927 book Oil by Upton Sinclair, the film tracks the rise of Plainview, an amoral oil baron. It focuses on his rise to power, his relationship with his adopted son and his battles with local preacher Eli Sunday.

Plainview is a deep-set misanthrope whose desire to dominate everything around (and underneath) him drives his determination to succeed.

Day-Lewis conveys Plainview’s bleak worldview brilliantly, and his performance elevates the character from one-dimensional monster to fully fleshed out tyrant, allowing the audience to understand him. Even if they can’t relate to him.

As Plainview becomes more powerful and comes to rely less on the goodwill of others, his contempt for humanity becomes clearer.

From the start, he’s the embodiment of ruthless industry. He treats the people around him, his son included, like his machines treat the soil: digging and scraping until all resources have been extracted. Then he moves on.

With such a callous protagonist, the film is bereft of sentiment, and redemption is never a prospect.

It’s almost impossible to connect with the cast, but that’s the point. Without the need to become emotionally attached to the characters, it’s easier to focus on what the film is really trying to say.

By deliberately draining the film of humanity, Anderson has created a work of heartless beauty and profound consideration.