THERE WILL BE BLOOD. P.T. Anderson’s Masterpiece Explained

In the case of There Will Be Blood, this barrier is the main character, Daniel Plainview (the brilliant Daniel Day-Lewis), an ambiguous, complex, but above all, unsympathetic figure. Audiences often don’t fully understand what he wants and what he’s striving for. They instinctively feel that something is wrong with him and perceive him as a negative character. Plainview, however, speaks plainly about what he desires: complete separation from other people. Viewers lost in interpreting his character probably ignore this scene, treating Daniel’s rant about hating humanity as drunken rambling. Because it’s an abstraction—no “normal” person imagines dedicating their life to completely isolating from society. The point is, Plainview really does everything to minimize contact with people. However, to achieve this, he first needs to become entirely financially independent. Fortunately for him, he has a talent for making money and skillfully navigates the sea of capitalism.

He is infinitely cynical. When one of his workers dies in a tragic accident, he takes in the orphaned son, not out of the goodness of his heart, but as a calculated gesture to have a mascot—a innocent face to accompany him in business meetings and facilitate deals. The little boy legitimizes his humanity, warms his image, presenting him as a family man and good father who couldn’t possibly be a cheat. However, human nature turns against Daniel, because despite his declarations of deep dislike for others and the cynical motives behind adopting the boy, he unwittingly forms an emotional bond with his ward. This is not a story of redemption, the healing power of love, or maturing into parenthood. Oh no. Plainview has a clear life goal and strides towards it. If it requires occasional ruthlessness, so be it.

However, to his own surprise, he discovers that he has some conscience, small scruples, and a sense of guilt that burns slightly—not enough to truly change him, but enough to sometimes make him doubt and alter a decision. For example, bringing his son back home after abandoning him for a long time because he became inconvenient when he lost his hearing.

It should be remembered that the adopted son’s deafness is the result of an accident—a tragic event for the boy but fortunate for Plainview, because it was then he discovered he had struck oil. While dealing with a burning oil well and reveling in the vision of immense profits, he quickly forgot about the nearby terrified, deafened little boy he should have been tending to as a father. This is exactly how his relationship with the world looks. As long as the boy is functional, Daniel shares his thoughts and plans for the future, tries to raise him as his successor, teaches him discipline and how to work with potential clients. After the accident, young Dillon becomes a burden, a hypersensitive boy lost in his deafness, unable to communicate with the world. Later, even after learning sign language, he cannot connect with his father. Daniel doesn’t even attempt to learn this new way of communicating with his son, stubbornly addressing him as if he could still hear, showing no interest in rebuilding the broken bond, only disappointment in Dillon’s wasted potential.

In the film’s final act, when Daniel talks to the now-grown Dillon and learns he plans to leave and start his own business, he reacts emotionally, trying to hurt him, throwing his true origins in his face, seething with contempt, and parting with him using insults. This behavior is low and cruel but not that of someone indifferent. Plainview hates humanity, but all his life he has sought trusted individuals with whom he could share this hatred. And no one could be trusted more than his own family. When his adopted son finally turns away from him, Daniel knows the reason. He expected it—it wasn’t really his blood. He deceived himself, believing for years that the boy would share his worldview and stand by his side as an adult. This is why he easily falls into the trap of an impostor pretending to be his brother. Hence the extreme reaction when he discovers the truth. He hoped the man would be his support. In his mind, a blood bond means shared ideas, the same goals and reasoning, and above all, full trust. When this is compromised, and the familiar stranger turns out to be another human scum, there is only one solution: murder.

This also explains his aversion to Eli Sunday (Paul Dano), embodying in his eyes the hypocrisy of humanity. Eli also follows a clear path—serving God and the successive development of the Third Revelation Church. It’s worth pausing to explain the significance of this name. Based on Christian tradition, the First Revelation was given to Moses, through whom God handed down the Ten Commandments. The Second Revelation involved sending the Son of God to Earth to teach humanity. The main carrier of the Third Revelation is the living tradition of the church and the New Testament, closely connected to the Hebrew Bible. The teaching of faith is thus passed down not by a single chosen one contacted directly by God, but by many clergy inspired by the Holy Spirit, interpreting old messages in a way understandable to their contemporary faithful. In this case, Eli’s piety and modern interpretation of the Bible would give him the basis to call himself a Prophet—someone instructing others, pointing the way to redemption, and maintaining the “fire of faith.”

Naturally, Plainview sees Eli as a charlatan, a skilled conjurer who, through theatrical services and trickery, stupefies superstitious villagers. There is a constant conflict between the characters, but for years neither admits it openly, opting for a guerrilla war, as open conflict would harm their mutual interests. Eli constantly loses these skirmishes with Daniel because he lacks his ruthlessness, lack of scruples, and cynicism. When it seems that his moment of triumph has come, throwing Daniel to his knees, forcing him to shout out his sins, driving him to the brink of fury, and making him repent before the local congregation, repeatedly slapping him, Daniel realizes the reason he endures it. He understands it’s just a temporary noise, a farce, an unimportant spectacle for the rabble, a means to an end—greater wealth, leading to isolation from people like Eli. He quickly forgets his anger, throws out a cynical comment with amusement, smiles—another round won, the stage is his again. Eli stands stunned, understanding that for the casual observer, it might still look like he won this round, but it’s just a smokescreen, a great mockery that will have no significance in the broader perspective. Daniel has achieved his goal again.

Plainview is patient, capable of enduring much, and for the temporary humiliation, he will exact a heavy toll from Eli when the roles reverse, and in the face of a great financial crisis, the young Prophet will come to him with his tail between his legs. Desperate, he will beg for help, hoping to mend his finances, and Daniel will ruthlessly use this to test the strength of his faith. And it will not be a pleasant experience for Eli. Cornered, he will renounce his beliefs, forced to shout out the whole truth he might have hidden even from himself, or simply played the role of the prophet so long that he started believing in his own messianism. Yet he renounces it all for money and, worse, for a false promise, because when pushed to the brink of mental endurance and finally discovering how much his faith was worth, Plainview will deliver a knockout blow. Daniel reveals he deceived him—everything was unnecessary, as he had already exhausted all the oil sources Eli had access to. But this is not enough for him.

Driven mad by years of loneliness, still emotional from the last conversation with his son, fueled by alcohol and growing fury, he kills the clergyman, crushing his head with a bowling pin, and collapses to the ground. Exhausted but happy. In the final scene, he says, I’m finished. Finished or perhaps finished off? It can be interpreted in different ways. He’s finished because he just killed another man, and this time there’s a witness. Cold-blooded murder—nothing but the noose awaits. But there was a witness before too, hinted at the next day when he was woken in the woods after the imposter’s murder. He might escape justice this time too, as nothing in his servant’s reaction indicates he will rush to the authorities.

So, he’s finished. Finished with Eli, with his humanity, severed family ties, amassed wealth, no longer needing to endure other people, he can sit in his deserted house. He succeeded.

Finished. And finished off.

Words: Krzysztof Bogumilski