There Will Be Blood

Darkness. A fiery spark reveals harsh rock, then just as quickly we are left in gloom again. This repeats. Harsh metallo-lithic noises punctuate a background of laboured breathing. Several minutes later we surface to eye-watering daylight. Dust and stones in every monochromatic direction. And one lone figure, black with soot, black with grime, black with - Oil. Welcome to There Will Be Blood.
Already, in the first fifteen dialogue-bare minutes, the filmmakers have told the audience everything they need to know, and have set the pace, tone and style for the entire film. And while it was widely advertised as a story about power, family, religion and greed, I would disagree. True, Blood does deal with these concepts extensively. But they are not what this film is about. They are merely the furnishings surrounding the pulsing heart of this story. The name of that muscular, pounding heart is Obsession. A more powerful plot-driving engine would be hard to find, and it is exploited to its full potential. So much so that it's easy to imagine the director catching his character's disease - the vision we are presented with is fever sharp, magnificently inexorable, and never wavers for a second. Each cinematic element is honed to an almost painfully fine point then fused one with each other, achieving a ruthless singularity of purpose.
There is no point in isolating one discipline for mention; it would be at the exclusion of many others no less worthy. In fact there is very little I can say about this film without detracting from its brutally spare power and passionately crafted workmanship. But perhaps I can say this: if Wit was a dignified queen, There Will Be Blood is a glorious tyrant, an autocrat whose subjects admire him, fear him, and worship him.

Any small imperfections in this piece are overwhelmed by the sheer momentum of its greatness. This really is a masterpiece. 10.