Two very different films exist within One Battle After Another: On one hand, writer-director Paul Thomas Anderson delivers a frenetic, relentlessly exciting chase movie featuring relatable characters and raw realism. At the same time, Anderson unleashes a bawdy, nihilistic character study, laced with goofy, satirical humor. Those two halves shouldn’t form a coherent whole, let alone work in service of each other, but the redoubtable Anderson makes it happen. The result is a film that’s both uncomfortably funny and casually terrifying, often within the same scene.
Loosely adapted from Vineland, the epic novel by Thomas Pynchon, Battle begins with an attack by the French 75s, a ragtag group of anarchic revolutionaries. Somewhere on California’s border with Mexico, the 75s ambush federal agents and liberate a Hispanic detention center. Amongst the revolutionaries, we meet “Ghetto” Pat (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Perfidia Beverly Hills (Teyana Taylor), a fiery couple who leads this particular cell. He’s on pyrotechnics; she works crowd control.
During this opening sequence, Perfidia runs into Colonel Lockjaw (Sean Penn), the jarhead commander of this encampment. For Lockjaw, she represents the ultimate woman: She’s fearless, fanatical, and sexually ferocious. He’s instantly obsessed. As the 75s continue swarming the country para la revolución, Lockjaw resolves to finding Perfidia.
That’s really all the description I wanna give ya. A big part of Battle‘s genuine excitement lies in its dogged unpredictability. From its opening, Anderson ensures that the movie lives up to its title, hurtling from one action beat to the next. In between, he creates an environment of unbearable tension. For most of its 160 minutes, Battle is almost unbearably gripping.
Along that journey, Anderson’s all-star cast vibes right into the adrenaline-fueled madness. As always, Leo’s star power hides in plain sight. His Ghetto Pat is a freedom fighter gone full Lebowski. If the revolution ends up being televised, there’s a good chance Pat will be sprawled on the couch with a fresh doob. Teyana’s edgy, mercurial Perfidia seems like a comet destined to burn bright and briefly. Amongst the supporting cast, Benicio del Toro is perfect as a shambling karate instructor who’s unafraid to wade into the revolution, provided he can pound a few Modelos along the way. Finally, Chase Infiniti is a revelation as Willa, Ghetto Pat’s headstrong daughter.
With all that said, Battle falls into orbit around Penn’s unhinged performance as Lockjaw. If most of Anderson’s film feels like a spiritual cousin to The Battle of Algiers (which pops up on a television screen), then Colonel Lockjaw wanders in out of Dr. Strangelove. Like that film’s General Ripper, Lockjaw’s madness is fueled by his own fragile masculinity. (His speech about how women are drawn to his mind and body will sit next to Hayden’s rant about “precious bodily fluids” in Strangelove.) Penn delivers stone-faced perfection: Lockjaw is blissfully unaware that he’s a fully realized cartoon character. (Indeed, some of this country’s actual leaders haven’t realized that, either.) For all of Battle‘s brilliance, it’s Penn who gives it the biggest boost.
The film also benefits from Anderson’s outsized ambition. He and cinematographer Michael Bauman made the gutsy decision to shoot the movie in old-school Vista Vision cameras. These workhorse cameras imbue the film with the rich colors and vintage texture once favored by Hitchcock and John Ford. In particular, a key desert chase looks and feels like something out of a Steve McQueen flick.
If I must attach a note of caution for viewers, it would be this: Anderson’s decision to mingle blistering social commentary with off-kilter humor can be startling. Battle delivers the impact of two different films. Savvy viewers will note the film’s resemblance to Algiers. Meanwhile, the script also delivers the filmmaker’s usual acerbic bite and wry social commentary. In this way, Anderson’s film resembles an audacious action thriller, blended with the cultural satire of Paddy Chayefsky. Some audiences might find this combination a little more off-putting than others.
Still, filmgoers who can roll with Battle‘s relentless eccentricity discover a gonzo masterpiece. Even with a runtime that sprawls to 160 minutes, there’s not a dull moment to be found. The resulting film is occasionally devastating, often hilarious, and nimble enough to stay a few steps ahead of the audience. One Battle After Another should be a strong contender for multiple Oscars, including Best Picture.
162 min. R. HBOMAX.
