Impressive in most every way except for the one that arguably counts most. The climactic scenes contradict the core of the film. They power the message (the social critique, the philosophical manifesto), but sacrifice the story. They nullify the viewer's feelings for a richly complex character, played masterfully by Day-Lewis. The field dries up and the story runs out of fuel, dropping into the abyss of total nihilism. Yes, the oil man is untrustworthy at the start and overly hungry for power, but we also admire him and want him to succeed. We are won over by the tender scenes showing his love for his son. By the end the man is a monster, and either he has lost his humanity along the way or he never had it in the first place. (Anderson seems to be saying it's the latter.) Either way, the monstrous (the total lack of regret) cannot be reconciled with the other aspect we have seen with our own eyes: e.g., a grieving father trying to rock his injured son to sleep. We are asked to believe that all the signs of love were fake, no more real than the charlatan preacher's claims to heal or exorcise demons. We were sold a bill of goods? And a film director is like an oil man: if he gives you a "plain view" of what you prefer to see, he can make you swallow anything? We are left with a morality tale: a highly enigmatic character is unmasked as a cardboard devil. Unlike with tragedy, here we no longer care about the old man's fate. How disappointing.

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PT Anderson took on dual roles as writer and director in There Will Be Blood, and was nominated for numerous awards for both. While his efforts were noble and well praised, the faults of the film lie solely in script and direction, so if someone must be blamed it is the beloved Anderson. The weaknesses of Blood did not ruin the movie; in fact, it was pretty great overall. They did, however, induce a sort of listlessness, and an inevitable feeling of “Ah, what could have been.” The film lacked the sort of cohesion that could have pushed it from great to classic, and had it expanded on its edgier side, it could have broken boundaries and created a new style of film. Instead, Anderson wandered through tired genres, threw away crucial moments, and included too many unmotivated camera angles. Overall, it just didn’t take a big enough leap into modernity. Daniel Day-Lewis was, as usual, completely absorbed in his character, making for a beautifully constructed chronicle of insanity. It is rare for an audience to relate so completely with such a disturbed individual, but his execution made it happen. While all of the acting was fantastic, it was Paul Dano that truly captured what could have been. Last seen in Little Miss Sunshine as the silent, angsty, Nietzsche-loving teen Dwayne, Dano’s character leap to the Church-obsessed faith-healer in Blood is enormous and impressive. His character was cliché, but his interpretation of it was fresh and outstanding. Had There Will Be Blood been less hyped, and garnered less obsession, maybe it would have seemed better or made a more lasting impression. Unfortunately, its reputation preceded it and falsely labeled the film as pretty much the best movie ever, and from that, there’s really nowhere to go but down.

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