Sunday, January 27, 2008
There Will Be Blood
In 1988 or thereabouts I was summering, as I did in my youth, with my family in Bar Harbor, Maine. I was a worldly college dropout, a few credits shy of a degree in a field I would never pursue. And my brother was just getting ready to go to college. It was a strange summer, one of the last I would spend there.
My brother and I worked for my father in the stores he managed and we lived in a sparsely furnished apartment above one of those stores on Main St. That was the year my brother blasted his cd to the soundtrack of "Less than Zero" and he introduced me to the world of hip hop and Public Enemy. (It is never lost on me that the Bangles' version of "Hazy Shade of Winter" is now older than the Simon and Garfunkel version was it was originally released.)
At the time I had just finished up a year in Los Angeles after a few years milling about NYU in the Film Department. And my brother and I spent one long night drinking and watching movies. I decided to show him The Godfather. (My god. THAT movie was only 16 years old at the time. For point of reference, imagine that I sit you down and show you....Reservoir Dogs today...and it's considered OLD)
We watched it together and the next morning I had to wake him up for work.
The very first words out of his mouth upon waking that morning was some question he had about one of the characters in the movie.
It had THAT kind of effect on him.
I relate that story now because this is the effect (sort of) that There Will Be Blood has had on me.
When I saw it I was impressed and moved, I guess. I didn't know what kind of film it would be and, after that abrupt ending, I thought that it was the thinnest of all of Anderson's work.
The enxt day, when asked about it, I started to talk about what I didn't like and ended up lauding it's brilliance.
I found myself daydreaming whole segments of the movie and just yesterday, while attempting to describe it and why she wouldn't like it to my wife's 87 year old nana and my 67 year old mother at different times during the day, I found myself changing gears and describing it not just as intense filmmaking, but as art. In a class of it's own. I don't recall when a film had that effect on me.
I could go on about the art direction, which is perfect. Or the performances which chew up said art direction and spit out a burning oil well and derrick. The music by Jonny Greenwood who will be remembered as legend one day, if not already. Or Paul Anderson. The amazing Paul Anderson who knows how to wring truth from high drama and finds the chaos in between not the lines but the action.
But I won't.
I will just say, go see There Will Be Blood. See it in the theater. Make time. If you are a film fan, nut, fanatic, or just appreciate the medium for the art it can attain.
I don't think you will be disappointed.
I wasn't.
That is all.
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