As this thought played around in my mind, I have come to the conclusion that the answer is simple. A story does not need to connect with its audience; sure, it helps but it is not an absolute. What the story needs to be is well written. A good story will make itself evident, and strong writing will find its audience, regardless of its level of involvement. Those who respect the craft will respond to quality writing. I am sure that there is much that I missed within the subtext of There Will Be Blood, but that is just another sign of quality writing. If a film makes you realize that there is more than what the surface implies and inspires the desire to experience it multiple times, then it has done the heavy lifting that is required for a story to succeed.

Paul Thomas Anderson, working from Upton Sinclair's novel Oil!, has crafted a tale that is simultaneously epic and personal. It is a powerful work that allows the actors to shine as they dig into their roles with reckless abandon. It functions on two levels, achieving a near perfect balancing act as both play towards the conclusion. It is a story spanning somewhere in the vicinity of twenty-five years. During the time covered we are given a look inside the early years of the oil business and what was involved in staking a claim, finding the substance, getting it out of the ground, and transporting it to its destination. To that end, we have a protagonist who is a cluster of contradictions buried behind a facade of charm; however, there is always an air of menace hiding just below the surface.

I cannot claim to be a big Anderson fan, having only seen two of his other movies (the excellent Punch Drunk Love and Boogie Nights, which I saw many years ago before my film infatuation kicked into gear). That said, this is a highly accomplished work and has a different feel than the others I have seen. There Will Be Blood exists outside the mainstream, in the realm where film is not co-directed by focus groups and studio suits. This film breathes and grows with a life of its own, where a personal story, such as the one told here, can grow and follow its own path in an organic manner, rather than being forced to fit the conventions of mainstream cinema. The result is a film that has a slow and gradual pace that allows the story to be told on its own terms, forcing the viewer to go along with that, whether or not it meets one's preconceived notions.