Memos From the Film Society: “One Battle After Another”

It is typically difficult to say what the defining movie of the present moment in history will be before that moment has passed. Very few landmark films, with the ability to define or redefine a genre, era, or the entirety of the viewing experience, are recognizable without the benefit of hindsight. In addition, these films usually require some amount of popular awareness — a level of insertion directly into mainstream conversation that almost supersedes normal moviegoing — in order to achieve landmark status. Films of this sort include “The Wizard of Oz,” “Star Wars,” or “Pulp Fiction,” among others that I almost hesitate to name, as they are so well known in the popular consciousness. It is through the lens of past landmarks that we are almost forced to evaluate Paul Thomas Anderson’s new film, “One Battle After Another,” and its impact. 

Starting from the film’s premiere in early September, nearly every critic has lavished praise on it in all aspects, from performances to writing to filmmaking to themes. Even its score, by Radiohead guitarist Jonny Greenwood, is among the most praised of the year, and the mingling of excellent established veteran actors with genuine ingénues seems poised for natural recognition in the newest Oscar category, Best Casting. Very few critics even attempt to question its quality; it has the best reviews of the year, and the status of “instant classic” feels almost assured, only a month after release.

Anderson is no stranger to conversations of this sort. The director is among the most popularly acclaimed living American directors and perhaps the youngest in this conversation to have already cemented their place in film history. Even just his second film, 1997’s “Boogie Nights,” is now sometimes regarded as a landmark in and of itself, and nearly every one of his films since has been equally respected. He has yet to receive much formal recognition from award bodies for his work, so a particularly powerful and overdue narrative is forming around “One Battle After Another” as the official awards season is set into motion. But the question remains, past all the conversations, hype, and press: Is the movie really that good?

It’s easy to see why exactly “One Battle After Another” is on the receiving end of such praise once you examine even the basic levels of the plot in both of its two major plot threads. The first is a grand battle between powerful white supremacists — represented by the simultaneously pathetic, insane, and frightening Col. Steven J. Lockjaw (Sean Penn) — and the eccentric underground radical group the French 75, led in part by the wonderfully named Perfidia Beverly Hills (Teyana Taylor). The second strand is a high-wire chase story, in which Perfidia’s partner Bob Ferguson (Leonardo DiCaprio, in his most loopy and intoxicated performance to date) is tasked with rescuing their free-spirited daughter Willa (newcomer Chase Infiniti) from kidnapping. 

The literary-minded will recognize this plot structure from Thomas Pynchon’s 1990 novel “Vineland,” on which the film is loosely based. Anderson fanatics are quick to point out that this is the director’s dream adaptation, one he has been working on bringing to the screen for decades. Despite these not truly contemporary sources, the average viewer will see these strands, along with the film’s pro-revolutionary and pro-immigration stances, as remarkably modern and all too relevant. 

This could be why it is the movie of the present moment, and many opinions have been offered from this perspective. But I think the answer is much simpler: “One Battle After Another” is just an extremely engaging movie. Right from the sweeping opening shot of an immigrant detention camp that the French 75 liberate, the movie alternates gracefully between tense drama, exhilaratingly shot action (one climactic car chase is the unanimous high point), and hilarious slapstick and satire, mainly from Bob and DiCaprio’s “Big Lebowski”-style performance. The rest of the cast also shines, especially Benicio Del Toro’s turn as Sergio, a perpetually drunk yet calm and capable leader of a local undocumented immigrant community. All of this is wrapped up in an epic, nearly three-hour runtime that flies by, in the sort of grand, exciting, populist filmmaking that is rarely done anymore and has not been done properly in years. 

The sense of action and movement in each scene is what particularly stands out — things must get done and things must change, and Anderson reflects this in the film’s perpetual motion. Greenwood’s score prominently features a simple, thrumming piano riff, a rhythm the characters are both moving with and fighting against. The sharp satire that the film inherits from Pynchon (the main white supremacist group calls themselves the “Christmas Adventurers”) ties it all together, reflecting an absurdity that is constant in the world. The recurring “Battle” of the title is the need to fight constantly to achieve normalcy, and for characters like Bob and Willa to maintain family and hope in their world. 

The effect of this action is invigorating, but the movie’s attitude toward it is much less clear. While Anderson undoubtedly condemns Lockjaw and his forces, he also takes time to critique both the overabundance of violence and anarchy often present in historic revolutionary groups and the moral perfectionism and inaction of modern progressivism. Whether the possible centrist lean of this dichotomy — even if the plot is structured with the white supremacist as the villain — is truly earned deserves further discussion. Still, the film presents two clear models for its ideal of revolutionary action: the practical and unifying community force of Sergio, and the hope for the future embodied in Willa. Infiniti’s bravura performance in her first-ever film role cements this hope as the movie’s signature thesis. 

“One Battle After Another” is both an enormously entertaining work that culminates Anderson’s years of refining his craft, and a coherent political statement on the nature of rebellion. However, its status as a landmark movie that may go unspoken when the very concept of a landmark is referenced is less clear. There are instant classics, and this movie may be one of them, but there are far fewer instant landmarks. And many era-defining movies eventually pass into obscurity when the next era inevitably arrives. As time passes and the months and years pile up against “One Battle After Another,” its place in film history will become clearer, and perhaps it won’t ever achieve that status. I don’t think the film itself would want this level of historicity and reverence; the hope for things to come and for the youth to become better is enough. In both history and a truly successful revolution, there will be no landmarks, icons, perfect people, or perfect pictures. There will only be the next battle and the next moment.