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Sometimes, it takes the creative impetus of a\u00a0great filmmaker to finally pick up that chunky novel that\u2019s been sitting gathering dust on your book shelves since god-knows-when. Such was the case with my own yellowing edition of Thomas Pynchon\u2019s 1990<\/span> novel, \u200b\u2018<\/span>Vineland\u2019, which I\u2019d shirked for too long having understood it to be, from contemporary reviews, one of the author\u2019s more opaque works (which is saying something). When it was announced that Paul Thomas Anderson was returning once more to the PCU<\/span> (Pynchon Cinematic Universe) following 2014<\/span>\u2019s superb\u00a0<\/span>Inherent Vice<\/i><\/a> by adapting \u200b\u2018<\/span>Vineland\u2019 for the screen, this was the sign I\u00a0needed to finally dive\u00a0in.<\/span><\/p>\n For me, the book has some insanely high highs, but its concentric structure and a\u00a0logic-bothering tendency towards nesting digressions led me to wonder how any mortal \u2013 let alone the great Paul Thomas Anderson \u2013 could transpose this nine-sided ratfuck of an epic into the visual medium. Perhaps the most delightful surprise of his new work,\u00a0<\/span>One Battle After Another<\/i>, is that in spirit, it is a\u00a0perfect adaptation of the novel without having very many of the same characters, shifting its timeframe to the present day, and slicing away a\u00a0good half of the page count for necessary brevity. A\u00a0good literary adaptation is not a\u00a0case of scooping out the dialogue and filming the action on every page for maximum fidelity and fan service \u2013 it\u2019s about ingesting the themes and purpose of a\u00a0novel and trying as best you can to honour the intentions of the author.<\/span><\/p>\n Despite the fact that this is a\u00a0PTA<\/span> film with car chases, shootouts, military executions, bank robberies and city-wide sieges, it is also one of the filmmaker\u2019s more melancholy works, a\u00a0film about characters who have allowed time to slip away from them and have abandoned the youthful ideals that, at one time, gave a\u00a0vital spritz to life. It\u2019s a\u00a0study of what happens after the revolution, when you sense that the action you\u2019ve taken has led to superficial change, but it starts to slowly fade out as the dismal status quo wafts back like a\u00a0bad smell.<\/span><\/p>\n Bob Ferguson (Leonardo DiCaprio, having a\u00a0great time) is a\u00a0wild-eyed explosives expert and a\u00a0stringer for the leftwing militant group, The French 75<\/span>. He seems to get a\u00a0party-like kick out of his work, which is sometimes a\u00a0diversionary tactic, such as setting off fireworks, but also involves planting bombs in office buildings to create leverage for the group\u2019s demands, which are never made clear but definitely involve preventing the oppression of immigrants in the US<\/span>, which is always timely, but even more so in the current moment.<\/span><\/p>\n De-facto leader of the gang is Perfidia Beverly Hills (Teyana Taylor), an athletic and almost psychotically-driven femme fatale who\u2019s extremely morally comfortable when it comes to administering violence towards those she feels deserve it. Her and Bob definitely have a\u00a0little touchy-feely thing going, though it seems he is more invested than she is. On the first big sortie, in which the group tear down a\u00a0roadside immigrant encampment, Perfidia encounters and sexually humiliates Colonel Steve Lockjaw (Sean Penn, looking like Erich von Stroheim without the monocle), a\u00a0latent white supremacist whose separatist yearnings are not enough to suppress the fact that he really digs the game that Perfidia is playing. And so a\u00a0love triangle is born. And eventually, so is a\u00a0child \u2013 Chase Infiniti\u2019s Willa, brought up by Bob when Perfidia is forced (by Steve) into a\u00a0very tight ethical corner.<\/span><\/p>\n Anderson manages to build this context out at breakneck pace in the film\u2019s dazzling opening chapter, a\u00a0masterpiece of expressive montage that never once talks down to the intelligence of the audience to read and understand the torrent of images it delivers. Its second chapter takes place years later when Bob (now a\u00a0druggy burnout) and the industrious Willa are living off-grid in the township of Baktan Cross, a\u00a0locale with a\u00a0mostly latino population. There, they are able to bask in the Zen-like circumspection of a\u00a0local dojo owner referred to exclusively as \u200b\u201c<\/span>Sensei\u201d (an insanely cool Benicio Del Toro, could be an all-timer from him) who ends up becoming something of a\u00a0guardian angel, especially when it transpires that Steve Lockjaw is back on Bob\u2019s\u00a0scent.<\/span><\/p>\n One Battle After Another<\/i> looks like an expensive film, though we don\u2019t make that observation in the pejorative. Every damn nickel and dime has been thrown up on that screen, through its lovingly fastidious production design, the use of visually arresting and meaningful public spaces for its locations, the costumes, props and cars whose every colour pops, especially when captured on 70<\/span>mm VistaVision film stock. Sure, DiCaprio is the box office ace up its sleeve, but there is so much of a\u00a0thrill to be had simply from marinating in the craft of this thing, to allow yourself to be enveloped in the fluid editing, the AM<\/span> Radio musical selections, and even to wonder how some parts of it were even built. There\u2019s a\u00a0car chase scene in the film\u2019s final act which, visually, looks like nothing else you\u2019ve ever seen before \u2013 it\u2019s very wild and very\u00a0weird.<\/span><\/p>\n Yet while\u00a0<\/span>One Battle After Another<\/i> is a\u00a0film that is built from many extraordinary constituent parts (Jonny Greenwood\u2019s score another blinder), it\u2019s how all these elements work in concert that really makes it sing as a\u00a0motion picture. In its cocky dynamism and the manic energy of the performances and camera work, it\u2019s hard not to hark back to early PTA<\/span> bedrocks such as\u00a0<\/span>Boogie Nights<\/i> and\u00a0<\/span>Magnolia<\/i>. And yet this is maybe a\u00a0case of things coming full circle, as the confident looseness and natural rhythms of a\u00a0film like\u00a0<\/span>Licorice Pizza<\/i><\/a> (which itself has touch of the Pynchons about it) are also present here in some of the film\u2019s little interludes and fascinating cultural touchpoints.<\/span><\/p>\n So sorry to not be able to offer anything a\u00a0little more surprising in this write-up, but this is another slam-dunk for Anderson, who has made a\u00a0film that is a\u00a0very rare beast indeed: one that is incredibly fun without ever once straining to be. And if you\u2019re reading these words, it\u2019s your god-given duty to go see this in a\u00a0cinema on the biggest, loudest screen you\u2019re able to access. Not just as a\u00a0guaranteed hit of pleasure, but to make sure that whoever\u2019s financially enabling Anderson to make his wonderful works has reason to keep doing so long into the future. If it\u2019s a\u00a0hit, best pick up that copy of \u200b\u2018<\/span>Gravity\u2019s Rainbow\u2019 right\u00a0now.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\nGet more Little White\u00a0Lies<\/h3>\n<\/p><\/div>\n