Paul Thomas Anderson’s dark comedy One Battle After Another attempts to channel the chaos of modern times through a frenetic and overambitious narrative, offering a loose adaptation of Thomas Pynchon’s 1990 novel Vineland. With a runtime of two hours and forty-one minutes, the film tackles topical issues such as immigrant scapegoating, political polarization, and white supremacist posturing but remains caught on its own dizzying surface without fully exploring the underlying sociopolitical complexities, presenting a challenging subject for viewers of a Paul Thomas Anderson film review.
Adapting Pynchon’s novel into an ambiguous present setting
Pynchon’s book draws on the residual effects of the 1960s by weaving a story situated in the 1980s, centered around aging Californians who were once revolutionaries. Anderson repositions this narrative to exist in an indefinite “now,” marked by the opening scene’s depiction of a migrant detention center reminiscent of contemporary ICE facilities in various sanctuary cities. The film’s temporal ambiguity is purposeful yet leaves viewers uncertain about its exact moment, and though the theme
“what has happened before happens again and again and again”
aims for cyclical resonance, the film struggles to significantly pierce the flesh of this repeated history.
The conflict at the core: revolutionary ideals clashing with oppressive forces
The story introduces Perfidia Beverly Hills (Teyana Taylor), an antifascist fighter affiliated with the French 75, a militant collective opposing American tyrannies. Her romantic connection to Bob Ferguson (Leonardo DiCaprio), a jittery and reluctant member of the group, anchors the subplot. Perfidia’s confrontation with Colonel Steven Lockjaw (Sean Penn), a brutal and virile military figure, escalates tension as Lockjaw becomes a relentless adversary. This triangle forms the emotional and ideological crux of the narrative’s first act.
From revolution to personal tragedy and complicated relationships
The initial act sees the French 75 engaging in acts of sabotage like bombings and bank heists to disrupt the capitalist order. Meanwhile, the dynamic between Perfidia, Bob, and Lockjaw intensifies, including a disturbing, sadomasochistic encounter between Perfidia and Lockjaw after a mission. Following the birth of a child with unclear paternity, Perfidia’s betrayal fractures the group, causing multiple deaths and forcing survivors to vanish underground. Time then jumps ahead sixteen years, accompanied by the ironic tones of Steely Dan’s Dirty Work.
Family dysfunction emerges amid chaos and ideological battles
Shifting focus, the film reveals a familiar Anderson motif akin to Boogie Nights and Magnolia: fraught family drama. Bob has transformed into a dispirited, negligent guardian to his teenage daughter Willa (Chase Infiniti), who chafes against his obsessive paranoia—especially his disapproval of modern social ideas, including gender-neutral pronouns. This friction leads to a bitter betrayal, as Willa’s nonbinary friend exposes her and Bob to Lockjaw’s colleagues, reinforcing the film’s bleak worldview where marginalized people are depicted as latently disloyal.
Supplementary elements and stylistic flourishes
The film’s dense narrative also introduces numerous episodes and characters: meticulously choreographed but emotionally muted car chases, a secret society fixated on racial purity that Lockjaw desperately wants to join, and Benicio del Toro’s portrayal of Sensei Sergio, a Southern California martial artist who oversees a liberation network likened to Harriet Tubman’s underground railroad. Amidst this clutter, Jonny Greenwood’s musical score stands out as the film’s strongest asset, injecting energy and cohesion into the relentless on-screen turmoil.
Strong performances shadowed by underdeveloped characters
Teyana Taylor commands attention in the film’s opening sequences, vividly contrasting with DiCaprio’s hesitant and erratic Bob. However, despite Perfidia’s central role, her character ultimately becomes sidelined—an outcome unthinkable in Anderson’s early work, where actresses like Julianne Moore and Melora Walters were crucial emotional pillars. Willa is positioned as a symbol of hope and renewal, burdened by the legacy of her predecessors and poised to embody a better future, though her arc is obscured by the narrative’s fixation on Bob and Lockjaw’s shallow masculinity.
DiCaprio and Penn’s characters exemplify flawed masculinity
Leonardo DiCaprio has embraced difficult roles before, such as in Martin Scorsese’s Killers of the Flower Moon, where his portrayal captured chilling moral blindness. Yet, in One Battle After Another, Bob Ferguson is a caricature—portrayed as a clumsy, bathrobe-clad figure who feels more like a theatrical exercise in absurdity than a fully realized person. Extensive scenes show him failing to recall revolutionary codes, descending into unconvincing bouts of shouting and awkward gestures. Sean Penn’s Colonel Lockjaw fares even worse: a broad, one-dimensional figure whose gravelly smoker’s voice and spit-slick comb-over evoke a Robert F. Kennedy Jr. impersonation, making his presence grating and tedious over the film’s long duration.
The film’s failure to penetrate the zeitgeist and its narrative ambitions
Towards the film’s end, Lockjaw’s transformation into a zombie-like figure—reminiscent of George Romero’s creations—serves Anderson’s symbolic intentions, critiquing institutional arrogance and self-destructive paranoia. However, such narrative choices emphasize the film’s inability to offer incisive commentary or meaningful engagement with today’s political and cultural tensions. One Battle After Another often feels overstuffed with ideas but undercooked in their execution, leaving viewers more overwhelmed than enlightened by its sweeping scope.
Implications for Anderson’s storytelling style and audience reception
This latest effort from Paul Thomas Anderson confirms his continued ambition to merge complex sociopolitical themes with personal drama, yet it underscores the risks of excessive narrative layering without sufficient depth. With rich performances and technical craftsmanship counterbalanced by scripting and character weaknesses, the film provokes strong reactions but may divide audiences. Its somber tone and restless energy reflect the chaotic spirit of our era, even if the message loses clarity along the way. How Anderson builds on this experience in future projects will greatly influence his ongoing relevance and critical standing.
