Petróleo sangriento

"I'm an oil man!" Asserts Daniel Plainview (Daniel Day-Lewis) to a colony of naïve citizens of which he is astutely slipping into his trouser pocket one by one. However (in this case) the man speaks no lie for his veins do indeed run rich with plutonium oil. A crude, black substance embedded deep in the merciless heart of director Paul Thomas Anderson's gargantuan North American epic- There Will Be Blood. A perpetually steady, emotionally-draining and dark character study of an oil guzzling tycoon that vigorously chews on the themes of gluttony and deception, faith and ambition, death and revulsion. Do not be mislead by its title, though. This is not some balls-to-the-wall slasher-flick (as the "chavs" sat behind me seemed to think at the outset). It is a gruelling, drawn-out dissection of a loathsome yet sinisterly-comical individual consumed and maddened by his own persona. And it's absolutely formidable- visual and melodramatic arrestment at its bona fide best that exudes cinematic precision and awe with satire to spare. But it's also a long-winded affair. So thrill seeking, gore-craving moviegoers walk away, now. I'm afraid there will be no blood for you. Sorry. Add to that list- chic-flick, rom-com and sci-fi enthusiasts. You guys may be better off buying another ticket. Taking another ride. Those left, steady yourself for, perhaps, this year's most thought-provoking feature driven by a leading character performance fit to rival the very best.

Ushering in a near dialogue-free opening 15 minutes with a distinct fade-in, Anderson wastes no time in introducing us to the protagonist. Daniel Day-Lewis plays…no scratch that…Daniel Day-Lewis is Daniel Plainview. An ambitious, moustached miner who, while thrashing away at the crust of his motherland- at the turn of the twentieth century- strikes oil. A profitable discovery that fortuitously leads him to H.W (Dillon Freasier), a new-born infant of whom he slots forcefully under his oil sodden wing only to drag about the entire continent in search of large segments of land in which crude oil is stirring directly beneath. Soon enough, Plainview forges a blossoming "family" oil drilling corporation that soon establishes itself as a force in the industry and prospects appear even brighter when, in 1911, Plainview receives a generously eerie, yet pricey tip-off as to where there may be a sturdy supply of his beloved oil. A tip-off in which he pursues like a unwavering moth to an oil fuelled flame as he meanders ominously into Little Boston, California where the true colours of the indomitable oil baron edge disturbingly into light.

Daniel Plainview is an angry, vengeful man whose promises and loyalties to those around him are as false and as futile as his love and respect for God. He "guarantees" the people of the Little Boston ranch; food, water, schools and, to the town's radically odd preacher Eli Sunday (an inspired Paul Dano), a newly renovated church of the Third Revelation. But he cares little for the reserving of his pledges and spends little time guilt-tripping over his numerous acts of iniquity. "I look at people," he says "and I see nothing worth liking." "I have a competition in me," he continues "and I want no one else to succeed". Self-centred sociopath?…Yep, for Plainview is as putrid and as predatory as any character to ever grace the big screen. He putrefies slowly, though. The end product appearing more entity than man. Better yet: an egocentric emblem of evil that governs the screen in an implausible manner in which only an actor of Day-Lewis' calibre can. The sheer potency of his flawless portrayal actually carries the relatively toothless narrative in areas which could be further criticised for chugging along at a near crawling pace at times.

Visually and acoustically, though, TWBB is outstanding- every nuance of every aural and cinematic component work so well with one another to help give the film such power and impact. It's just a shame that no real direction or purpose bled into the screenplay for which Anderson adapted from Upton Sinclair's 1927 novel- Oil. As far as storytelling goes, Anderson has underperformed here. His narrative lacks any legitimate path or hooks and, to be honest, the lack of defining moments- bar the infamous confession and milkshake scenes- within 158 minute running length is a little disappointing. But the manner in which Day-Lewis dictates the audiences' attention more or less vanquishes any negative thoughts regarding the muscle of the plot. Which is why it comes as no surprise that everybody and their brother have duly commended the London-born method actor's impeccable, Oscar winning performance: the epitome of everything grand about Anderson's fifth but not quite finest feature yet; profound, provoking, intense, immense.

In spite of its flaws, TWBB is still an exceptionally powerful piece of cinema that'll remain etched in the minds of those who take to it for quite some time. Even if it's quality is not there for all to see, in plain view.

The year I was born was the same year Predator and Robocop came out. When I was finally old enough to appreciate films, Little Nicky was in theaters. I know, believe me, I know; rocky start. And often I would watch older films, or specials on older films, and be dazzled. You know the ones. Remember when they made Spartacus? Remember sitting in the movies and watching Gregory Peck play Atticus Finch in To Kill A Mockingbird? Remember the first time you heard "I could've been a contender" through theater speakers? Well I sure as hell don't. But I'll tell you what, now I feel somewhat caught up. Let's begin with the obvious. Daniel Day Lewis. No one's arguing about this. The man is a veritable God among ants on the screen. He takes his role by the reigns and I don't doubt him for a second. In fact, at times, I was downright afraid of the man. Lewis gives what is easily, EASILY the best performance of the past five years. But let's get serious about it. Lewis' Daniel Plainview is the most convincing, awe-inspiring, and downright mortifying character to take the big screen that I can remember. Here, perfectly in his element and at his best, Lewis could go toe to toe with Brando and Kinski, playing a part that oozes enough skill and pathos to earn him a place among Hollywood's, and perhaps the world's, greatest performances of all time. He gives those of us who missed out on the craft, depth of character, and technique of classic cinema a chance to admire a tour de force portrayal of a memorable, identifiable, and completely despicable character, and it's so damned refreshing that I can't stop singing the man's praises. Paul Dano has been taking a lot of fire for this whole thing. People continue to spout their disapproval of the film's casting, saying that Dano has no business rivaling the seasoned Lewis on the screen. Listen, lay down your swords a minute and consider the obvious. The guy was cast opposite the performance of the decade, he's not going to outshine Lewis and you'd be crazy to expect him to. In fact, I think that he and Lewis' back-and-forths are the films highlights, as we see the juxtaposition not only in the characters themselves, but also in their acting techniques. And the cinematography? Welcome to the old days of film. The glory days of Hollywood. Anderson gives us one of the most beautifully shot and directed films in recent memory, truly at the top of his craft on this one. Every moment feels more epic than the last, until the film becomes such a towering cinematic spectacle that the end leaves the viewer exhausted. It's truly an experience not to be missed. Yeah, we missed out on A Street Car Named Desire. And Casablanca isn't gonna be in theaters again any time soon. But in the meantime, There Will Be Blood is just about as good, and will likely haunt our generation as much as the Hollywood studio epics of the past...

There's a prospector by the name of Daniel Plainview, a weathered type of soul, after all the things he's been through, now he's come across some oil, underneath Californian soil, and he's planning to extract, withdraw, accrue. He has a son that he acquired after a blow, now where he goes, young H. B. will also go, as he supports his father's hand, acquiring most of the scrub land, with the knowledge of the flow that sits below. But a preacher seeks to meddle, interfere, and Daniel Plainview's disinclined to be so dear, H. B's deafened by a boom, a long lost brother finds a tomb, there's no salvation, when your life's so insincere.

Two of the finest cinematic characters you'll encounter.

This film raises the game for everyone out there. I have loved all of Paul Thomas Anderson's work, including his greatly underrated Punch-Drunk Love, but this is a huge leap from any of the previous movies into a realm, as others have said, inhabited by classics such as Treasure of the Sierra Madre - and then some. Every element of this film is astonishing, from the opening twenty minutes, which feature virtually no dialog, to Jonny Greenwood's score, which I have heard criticized as too imposing but which seems just about perfect to me (and brings to mind the non-Blue Danube elements of 2001 at its most experimental). Daniel Day-Lewis' performance is in a league of its own: his voice, his mannerisms, his physical movement, his stunted emotions, are flesh and blood, and hauntingly so, in a way that even Tommy Lee Jones in In The Valley of Elah (which I thought was a pretty staggering performance) can't quite attain. I will watch this film again and again simply to see something so raw and so moving and so gut-wrenching. This is why I love movies; this is what made me want to make movies when I was fourteen years old.

PT Anderson's name already means something, or I should say something else. His self assuredness alone gives me shivers. A modern artist with such clear and severe vision of the world. Boogie Nights, Magnolia, even Punch Drunk Love have an Wellesian disregard for what's in or out. His films are landmarks that may infuriate some, confuse others and mesmerize the rest of us. Here, with the rigorous tale of an impervious oil man, PT Anderson outdoes himself. He has Daniel Day Lewis as his accomplice in a performance that would be as difficult to match as it is difficult to describe. There is a monstrous beauty here that not even a broken nose can disguise. The saga is filled with long silent moments of tension that take place in a cinematic canvas and an actor's head. PT Anderson must have known that this was going to be, not only not a mainstream opus but a hard pill to swallow. I for one stand up to applaud his daringness.