A Frontmezzjunkies Film Review: Paul Thomas Anderson’s “One Battle After Another”
By Ross
Is this our collective future? That was the question pounding in my head long after the credits rolled on “One Battle After Another.” The film sent real-time, real-life shivers down my spine, not because it invents some distant dystopia, but because it feels like someone saw what the United States was becoming before many of us were ready to admit it. And now, as headlines blur into each other and power reveals just how far it is willing to go to protect itself, the film feels less speculative and more like a distorted mirror, one that is overwhelming and disturbing to look into. It is World War III out there, and Paul Thomas Anderson, the fearless director of this addictive film, captures the emotional atmosphere of that conflict with unnerving precision, making it impossible to look away even as our stomachs tie themselves into knots.
Loosely adapted from “Vineland” by Thomas Pynchon, Anderson relocates the story firmly into our present, framing it against a stark, almost mythic American landscape. Shot in luminous VistaVision and propelled by Jonny Greenwood’s percussive, anxious score, the film is visually expansive yet spiritually claustrophobic. The desert highways stretch endlessly, rising and falling like the emotional states of its characters. Yes, at times the film meanders on that long road through nowhere, but I never wanted to get out of the car Anderson built for us. The journey is too absorbing, too alive with dread and dark humour.
The performances anchor the chaos. Leonardo DiCaprio, who also starred in the similarly themed Netflix drama, “Don’t Look Up, “ delivers a tightly wound, magnificent turn as Pat or Bob, depending on when you are addressing him, a dissolute, paranoid ex-radical clinging to fragments of former idealism dulled by sixteen years (at least) of drugs and booze. DiCaprio expertly humanizes a man who might otherwise dissolve into satire, while the equally fascinating Sean Penn elevates the cartoon-like and terrifying Col. Lockjaw. Striking a brilliant balance between realism and grotesque caricature, his face twitches and contorts with barely contained menace, making our skin itch with discomfort while also recognizing his turmoil. He is as chilling in his own way as the award-winning Amy Madigan and her brilliantly conceived villain in the film “Weapons,” performances for which both have received Academy Award nominations. But more amazing is the performance by newcomer Chase Infiniti, who is a revelation, holding her own with astonishing confidence against a backdrop of acting excellence all around her. It’s an astonishing feat of strength, with the incomparable Benicio del Toro bringing a smooth, steady moral gravity to the madness, the most loyal of wingmen in a world that has gone mad with hate.
What makes the film more than merely disturbing is how shockingly on the nose its political messaging feels. The Saint Nick organization’s cruelty is astonishing yet authentic, echoing the racist rhetoric and casual dehumanization that have seeped into everyday discourse. The only detail that feels slightly off is the naming and masking of its ICE-like enforcers. In reality, today’s power structures operate brazenly and proudly in their arrogant swagger. Here, the conspiracy still hides in the shadows underground, hidden under a suburban home in a wealthy neighbourhood. Yet the parallels between powerful men scrambling to cover their tracks are exacting and riveting, a kind of violation of truth itself, committed in the foolish idea of Lockjaw’s accusational “rape in reverse” and broadcast in plain sight. If only the same ultimate office awaited them all as it does for Penn’s colonel.
Awards bodies have taken notice. After sweeping the Producers Guild of America’s top prize and dominating the BAFTA ceremony, the film heads into the Academy Awards with thirteen nominations and serious Best Picture momentum, even as “Sinners” gains ground. Despite modest box office returns, it has clearly struck a cultural nerve. “One Battle After Another” is exuberant, thrilling, inventive, and at times exhausting, but it feels necessary. It dares to imagine how democracy fractures and what it might take to defend it. And in this moment, that dare feels less like fiction and more like a warning flare shot straight into the American sky.
