There Will be Boredom
I’m going to step out on a limb, against the intelligentsia, against the cinephiles, against just about everyone I’ve talked to, and speak the unspeakable: There Will be Blood was dull. That’s right. I said it. Dull. Hell, let’s go even further: TWBB is turd of a film. Though there’s some excellent acting here, the whole affair is basically a self-indulgent romp of excess. Beyond the excellent acting, I’m wondering what this film does besides drive home the obvious. To know that the early oil business in the US was driven by sociopathic capitalists is no great revelation, and this character study of one of these sociopaths was not all that compelling. So fixated on the totalizing anger and drive for accumulation of a few figures, the film ultimately does little more than amplify such a portrait to unreal terms, and in doing that, it is unflinchingly inhuman. I guess that’s the point, but I don’t find that interesting, or redeeming, or even vicariously fun.
I was actually surprised about how little I enjoyed this film. Granted, I am no huge fan of any of Paul Thomas Anderson’s other work. I hated Magnolia, and I think Boogie Nights is only barely watchable. I can’t help but wonder if there’s some kind of collective idiocy going about along with this season’s flu virus. Apart from some kind of virus that clouds the judgment of people, I don’t get why everyone is so excited about this film. Do people love this film because they’re told to? Do they love it because they think if they do it makes them look more knowledgeable about film?
Who knows? Maybe I’m the idiot. And that’s fine, as long as my punishment is not having to watch There Will Be Blood again.
