From Jesse James to the Coens’ No Country to this visceral tragedy, the relationship between man and the salt of US soil is utterly crucial and current. Hubris, greed, retribution and existentialism are the common themes of these new American epics, and as male characters sweat under the noonday sun, all three films exemplify the challenges and self-examination good cinema should provoke.
There Will Be Blood is more politicised still. Its backbone is severed into the key constituents of the American psyche: oil – the pitch they’ll go to war over; and religion – and boy, they go to battle over that one too.
It’s 1892 and Daniel Day-Lewis is the oilman, Plainview, breaking bones to find the black stuff, selling his soul and son to profit, charming communities to relinquish their land. His competitive streak, like a poisoned fissure, ensures that regardless of his success, he shall never be happy.
And Paul Dano, Eli, is faith. The schizophrenic preacher and healer, possessed with righteousness – utterly unlikeable despite his morality – his investiture also all flawed narcissism and a quest for power. But ultimately the film belongs to one of them.
This is yet another staggering performance from Daniel-Day Lewis, and Paul Thomas Anderson gives him enough meat to masticate his way to further glory. Plainview is complex, dynamic, flawed, demonic, attractive and at all times a magnet for the eyes. His emotion – pent up and sinewy – bubbles like thick black… oil beneath the surface.
It does grate somewhat that here is an actor who now somehow ‘graces’ films with his presence, and there are a few other issues that temper. The final confrontation between Plainview and Eli is pure melodrama, and though the disintegration is supposed to be pathetic, it’s a tough conclusion to two hours and 40 minutes. The soundtrack for its part jangles like a Hammer horror wind-chime. And there’s the Paul/Eli problem – see what you can make of it.
One is left wondering if this metaphorical attempt at exposing the heart of contemporary America is as forceful and brilliant as the literal version in Syriana – the last great film about oil. On balance, perhaps not. But it remains a film with great method, metal and madness, and for that reason shouldn’t be missed.
