![]() The beauty of the cinematography isn’t lost on me, and though the film is inarguably bloated at 158 minutes, its slow pace and Jonny Greenwood’s unsettling score amplify the sinister, insidious effect of oil money on Little Boston. Yes, I fell asleep, but later, and for less time, than ever before – and now I think I get it. ![]() So I sat down with my latest study participant – and a cup of coffee, this time – and sallied forth once more, into the mine. Photograph: Everett/Rex Shutterstockīut I am often wrong (you can see from the comments!), and I like to dismiss something from an informed point of view. Not to dismiss the importance of auteur’s vision, or audiences willing to meet them on their terms, but when it has come to the choice between making a statement and delivering entertainment, I’ve wondered: why not both? I have always felt an aversion to art that seems to hold itself above people. Or maybe it’s more that a film has to hold my attention.Įven from the little of it I had seen, it was clear that There Will Be Blood seeks to impress on you how important it is – in being not only long but slooow, with capital-A acting and a dissonant score – more than it actually wants to engage you. Sure, maybe I should get my iron levels checked. ![]() “Was there a very white room?” I hazarded on waking, single-handedly causing a crisis of masculinity. My second viewing was a few years later, after enough mentions that I had started to wonder: is it actually men, or is it something about me? Again, I fell asleep – at a later stage this time, but still having got nowhere close to grasping the film’s widely-agreed-on genius. ![]()
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