Years age, while perusing Girish Shambu’s blog, I came across the concept of Strombolian films. Coined by the film professor (and an overall towering figure in film studies) Nicole Brenez, these are films that you dislike or not understand upon first viewing but which grow in your estimation as you watch them again, this time being more prepared for the film. The first time you might have been too young, too much of a filmic novice, had preconceived notions about cinema that the film didn’t meet, did not gel with it’s style, or where not far enough along your film journey to have the requisite tools to appreciate it. However, the second (or even later) time, you would have been more-equipped to appreciate the film.
For me, that film is There Will Be Blood. I am a little hazy on chronology here, but I believe I watched it after seeing The Master. I may even have watched it after seeing Boogie Nights. I sorely missed the zaniness of those films in this PTA venture. I thought the film stodgy and too convinced of its own greatness. Let it not be be misunderstood that I had an aversion to serious films at that time. I would’ve told you at that time that the two Godfather films are the pinnacle of cinema. But something about TWBB just didn’t click. I found the pacing slow, it felt like the film dragged its feet at certain places and worst of all I found the whole exercise somewhat boring.
After my initial watch I read a bevy of articles and criticism extolling the virtues of the film. I also ran through the whole of PTA’s filmography, and except for Hard Eight, found every one of them masterful. I may even have read the Strombolian film concept in the while. And so I plopped down, waiting to be dazzled by PTA’s mastery, to ‘get’ There Will Be Blood.
And…… it didn’t happen. I found the second go-around much the same as the first. My relative maturing as a cinephile meant that I could appreciate the technical aspects more, the sweeping cinematography and the production design (especially the set of the oil rig that goes up in flames) particularly, but overall it left me as cold as the first time. I wasn’t drawn in by the rise and fall of Daniel Plainview, his interplay with H.W. did not resonate with me as it should, and again I found the film plain boring in places.
And yet the film kept calling to me. Part of it is of course cinephiles on the internet praising it to high heavens (it wound up on a fair few best-of-the-decade lists). That was not the major part though. If the internet cinephile community had raised, say, Memoirs of a Geisha to that standard, I doubt I would’ve given that film that many, or any, chances. But something in TWBB kept drawing me in.
And I rewatched it a few more times and gradually my love for the film bloomed. It didn’t erupt like in the image above. Instead it came begrudgingly, it had to be rooted out of me like the oil from the earth. Like how Salman Rushdir describes Salim’s mother loving his father piece by piece each day (concentrating on the nose one day, an ankle the next) in Midnight’s Children, I learned to love the film piecemeal. One of these parts that I had to grow to love included the central piece of the film itself and that was Daniel Day-Lewis’ performance. While I was struck by Paul Dano’s performance from the first watch itself, I thought Plainview to be too similar to Bill the Butcher from Gangs of New York. But no, there is a fundamental difference between the two. While Bill is utterly unsympathetic, Plainview is more of a flawed protagonist. Early in the film he skirts the line but there is a genuine feeling of the human in him, until it is piece-by-piece stripped away.
My journey climaxed a few days ago when I finally got the opportunity to see the film on a big screen. So what parts did I find new appreciation for after the big screen experience? I came away in awe of Jonny Greenwood’s score. It sets the mood correctly each time, a little mischievous, a little stern, wholly one with the film.
But what worked more than anything else this time was Daniel and H.W.’s relationship. I had always come away from the film thinking Plainview was only exploiting the child for his gains. He was doing that of course, but I also saw genuine love there this time. It made his final confrontation with H.W. all the more hard hitting.
The whole ending just hit harder this time. “I drink your milkshake” is a great line but the ending is so much more than that. I loved anew Dano’s performance when he utters, with faltering conviction, “But that would be a lie” and then his acceptance and pathetic tears after. I loved the touch of Plainview biting into a tough steak. I loved the flipping of the switch as the first half of the conversation is controlled by Eli while Plainview gets the upper hand after.
While I am a convert to the church of TWBB, I still am not among its ardent supporters. It is not the best film of the decade for me (it’s not even the best of 2007) and I still feel the film sags a bit in the interval between the supposed Henry Plainview’s arrival and exit. But I can now firmly join the chorus in declaring its greatness and I am not even averse to its moniker as our generation’s Citizen Kane.
Other Strombolian Film Candidates
Tokyo Story – Maybe it is just a case of me having seen too many imitators beforehand, but this film failed to move me, even while I recognised what it was doing that made it so beloved.
Rashomon and Ikiru – I appreciated the way the stories were told more than the stories themselves. I’ve found Kurosawa’s more genre-oriented films like Stray Dog and Yojimbo, which are not so formally daring, more up my lane.
2001: A Space Odyssey – I have always been clear about my opinion about this sci-fi classic. I find the opening and the closing sections perfect, approaching the entirety of Barry Lyndon as some of the most beautiful things Kubrick has shot. It’s the middle sections that grate me. The stilted dialogue doesn’t work for me and while Hal 9000 is one of the most iconic of film characters, I think the film would have been better off being entirely silent.
Fellini Satyricon – This is the one where actually I feel most confident. At the time I saw it, I probably would have complained that it’s plotless, sex scenes come out of nowhere, it ends mid-sentence and that there isn’t an overarching theme. And yet now that all seems like praise to me. This is as bad an entry point to a director’s filmography you can get and me watching this cold without much knowledge of Fellini (or even Italian cinema really) would have done it a disservice then and now that I have absorbed those things, makes me eager to watch it now.
Alvel's blog 