Our Lives in Plainview

Rating: 8/10 (19 August 2008)

By Bryce VanKooten
I want so much to dive headlong into the story with which I just dedicated a small portion of my weekend to, but despite my deepest desire to fully immerse myself in its layers of cold, hard reality; I feel as though I must explain. Not bluntly regurgitate my circumstances, but explainme. Explain what I felt coming into the movie, if only to allow you to see my shadowed impressions of the end.
Often, to a fairly new viewer like myself, this would be a common bore had it not been for one thing; Daniel Day Lewis. What a pleasure it is to watch a man that is in love with his profession. What a joy it becomes for the audience to relax backwards and never be fooled. Not fooled in the sense of a plot twist or a witty mantra that takes us out of the moment, but fooled by the reality they're watching. As the film opens, we're in a pit, and to be quite simple; we never get out. Surrounded by rough, silent circumstances, its early 1900's and we're digging for much more than oil. Greeted by Daniel Day-Lewis, it's encouraging to find that we're not watching Bill "The Butcher" Cutting or Hawkeye (easily two of my favorite cinematic characters of all time), but rather, someone new. Someone rooted in evil, splendid nonetheless.
Daniel Plainview cares about one and a half things: Pride and whatever it takes to get more of it. In many instances he finds himself replacing that half-ounce of space in his soul and 2 hours and 40 minutes later, he's where he started. It cannot be filled with any other morsel of sanity in so far as it would eat away at his other portion. Plainly speaking, There Must Be Blood.
The movie flows much like it should, whistling and washing its way through the dragged days of the early West. Its era-savvy fashion and slow and steady language enable the viewer to easily enter the world in which Paul Thomas Anderson so blissfully takes you. Coincidentally, There Will Be Blood is not a simple film. Its simplicity can only be found in the presentation. The words, much like cuts, are few and far between, with no words arriving till nearly the 30-minute mark. The long takes seem to walk you through as if you are watching from the standpoint of a character simply off screen. There are no frills, there are no breathtaking effects; its simple, imagined movie making, in its most pleasant form.
Each scene in the saga of Daniel Plainview is precisely placed, leaving no emotion unturned. There are few relationship formed in the movie, mostly because of Plainview's unwillingness to let anyone or anything in. Plainview's pride is overwhelming. Pride is not a theme depicted or an emotion sought after by the screenplay. It is the living breathing force by which the film finds life. Pride finds many competitors during its time on screen; Faith, Hope, Friendship, Family, Freedom and yet each time discovers a path to its destruction. Sometimes slowly, sometimes with the briskness of a bowling pin, it shatters its enemy and finds no joy in the outcome, simply turning its gaze forward, onto the next foe. As the film winds on (and as we find out later), Plainview has enlisted a young boy to be the face of the business. In great need a softer side; Plainview uses his wit to dupe each town into selling him their profits. No scene is more telling than the infamous night of the accident. While everyone is busy doing the chores and tasks at hand, H.W. (Daniel's son) is sitting above the oil well, watching the action below. As the well fills and pressure builds in both the pit as well as the audience nearby, it explodes. Upon impact, H.W. is thrown back, showered with debris lying motionless only feet away. Striking moments of silence bear down as we see Daniel carrying the boy to the shack, away from the wreckage. As Daniel runs, the music scampers along with him in a darkly, menacing dance. When he finally lays the boy down, H.W.'s words, joined with the fire from outside, ring out in the silence, "Dad, I can't hear my voice." It is in that moment where we see the real change in Plainview begin to surface. It is in that moment when his choice is made. His pain can only be seen in his hate for any obstacleand his seeming love for his son is soon revealed, when he chooses not to stay with himas a mere façade. As the camera stays on Daniel, we see him walk outside, gaze at the fountain of burning black gold, fall to his kneesand stare. Surrounded not by his friends, nor his family, but by the Prideembodied in black, that he so blissfully embraces.
After many long years Daniel's life wages on, with his Pride still well intact. We see time and time again its ability to save him. Even when honest transparency seems realistic; he is betrayed twice, by liars. Once by the self-proclaimed prophet Eli and once by his lonely self. What once was the man, who found a glimmer of hope in a hate-imposed prayer, now clings strong to means of survival, which he knew best.
I would wish for everyone to be able to sit down and enjoy the film like I did, while also realizing that the film is far from over upon its completion. I've discussed many of my favorite things about the film with many of my favorite people and have still only begun to unwrap all that is inside. Can it really be said that we are so different from Daniel? Surely, there is not a competition in any of us.