There Will Be Blood (and pain, and depression, and really good filmmaking)

[This was originally posted as a comment on Final Cut with Wilsford and Young]

I'm always looking for a film's message. I am one of those old-fashioned, pre-modernists who believe that art, in addition to providing entertainment, transmits the artist's thoughts, feelings, or worldview in a compelling and interesting way. It's not that I dislike post-modern film—I consider Pulp Fiction, the gold standard of pointless movie making, to be one of the 5-10 greatest films ever made—it's just that I always expect that the filmmaker is trying to make a point, and will assume so until the movie proves me wrong.

Like Nathan, I have struggled to comprehend this film and to find its message. Technically, it's stunning. Day-Lewis is from another planet in terms of his ability to fully inhabit his character (I heard an interview on NPR where he said it can take months for him to get out of character after filming ends). Anderson assembles a parade of wonderfully discordant visuals: obnoxious oil derricks in the bucolic California countryside; a worker cradling a infant while dumping a bucket of oil into a holding pond; the aged Plainview's indoor shooting gallery. The soundtrack ranges from eerie silence to screeching violins and pounding drums. The film, as should be expected from Anderson, overflows with dramatic technique and spell binding effects. It is truly riveting to watch.

But what's the point of all this artistic technique? Anderson's short resume of films are all somewhat off-putting and inaccessible (Magnolia, anyone?), but tend to reflect general themes of conflicted characters and awkward relationships. Those are certainly present here. I have read reviews that read this film as an indictment of big business and American greed, but I don't see it as much more than an indictment of Daniel Plainview. (The Standard Oil representative comes off like a nice guy.) Others contend that Plainview is completely evil, with no remorse or regret. I don't buy that either owing to the clear desire of Plainview to connect with his family--shown in his willingness to open up to his brother and the flashbacks to happy times with his son.

In all, Anderson seems to be more interested in making the point that some people are beyond hope. Some people are so deeply flawed that no amount of desire for love or acceptance can overcome their self-destructive nature. Anderson shows us two people, Plainview and Eli, who fit this description, and at the same time demonstrates that two of the most popular methods of finding fulfillment in life (money and religion) are no match for the depths of their flaws.It's not particularly enjoyable to spend two and a half hours in a theater to find out that some people are doomed to lives of depression and pain. Yet, the film's incredible accomplishment is that it keeps you interested and engaged in this story to the end. Only later, leaving the theater feeling exhausted and wrung out, did I wonder, "Why did I like that movie as much as I did?"