…all creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. —Romans 8:22

Director Paul Anderson is never one to be boxed in. This time out, he departs from his usual depictions of the fringe of American suburban life and journeys into the white-hot center of one oil-man’s soul. And it is as black as the oil he mines.

There Will Be Blood starts much like a horror film. We go from blackness to the deafening shriek of violins as the camera slowly pans a desolate landscape. At any moment one expects someone to be grabbed from behind or worse. It as if the earth itself is crying out, for it is being bled to its core.

For a good ten minutes there is not a line spoken—just Daniel Plainview, played by Daniel Day-Lewis, digging by himself in a silver mine. We follow Plainview through the 30-year span of the film as he moves from miner to self-proclaimed “oil man” to veritable tycoon. Yet this is not the Horatio Alger happy-go-lucky version of the self-made man. This is a grueling look at one man who cares for no one and builds himself an empire for no real reason other than a selfishness that seeks to snuff out others. “I have a competition in me,” Plainview says. “I want no one else to succeed.”

Plainview’s main drilling takes place in a small town where a group of charismatic Christians meet a few yards away from the oil derricks. Their leader, Eli Sunday, a fanatical charlatan, matches Plainview in his selfish desires. From a theological perspective, Sunday may be even worse, messing with other’s souls while Plainview merely destroys his own. Sunday claims to heal and cast out, allowing his own sister to be beaten for not praying. Plainview merely keeps to himself. “I’ve built up my hatreds, little by little,” Plainview explains. “I do not like people.”

While it may appear that Plainview is driven by greed or capitalism, there is no indication that he is after money for the sake of wealth nor that he even likes oil. Even when living in a mansion, he still sleeps on the floor, proving how even the luxuries his financial success has brought him mean little. It is just his desire to see no one else win that sustains him, like a star athlete who doesn’t enjoy his sport but only plays to deprive others of winning. Anderson and Day-Lewis create in Plainview not a hero, but a study in human narcissistic cruelty.

This film would not have worked in any shape or form if not for the absolutely stunning performance of Daniel Day-Lewis. While many kudos will go to Anderson for his creative directorial mind, it is Day-Lewis, with his phenomenal talent honed to its very best, that makes this film come together and make Plainview a realistic person and not just a caricature. Day-Lewis, without an ounce of the actor’s own bias or leanings, lets only Plainview, in all his horrid glory, come through. As with Michael Corleone in The Godfather, nothing and no one in Plainview’s life can bring him out of his self-created darkness. He is simply not capable of allowing anything to touch him.

We feel hope and revulsion all at the same time for this dark man. There are times when we think and hope that he will finally burst forth, into recognition of his depravity and into some sort of light. We keep trying to find a reason to like him, keep hoping he will find his way to redemption, but each time it is offered, it is either false or unobtainable. Just like the oil he mines, he only spurts out ooze blackness and slime.

The soundtrack itself drills into our skulls as the violins continue to shriek with pain and the drums jolt. The score gives the film a sense of an Alfred Hitchcock thriller like The Birds or Vertigo, throbbing and sharp, as if pulling the film along in what we know by the title will not be a pleasant journey.

The jarring soundtrack as well as the sweeping scenery give the film the desperate feel of a Samuel Beckett play—where everything is just a bit off kilter and as we hope and pray for Godot to show up, in the end, there is nothing. We, too, feel trapped by Plainview’s dealings and we do not come away clean.

There Will Be Blood is not a film that will play well with a wide audience, but Day-Lewis’ performance alone makes it worth following the bizarre and sad workings of this film.

There Will Be Blood is rated R for “violence.” It is also extraordinarily bleak.

Courtesy of a local publicist, Jennie attended a promotional screening of There Will Be Blood.