Johnny Greenwood

Alright, this "hater" is going to take you to task over the Radiohead guitarist's big-picture soundtrack for There Will Be Blood. We've already debated the merits of the movie itself, which I found very good, despite Anderson's tendency to beat the viewer over the head with "this is an important movie" bluntness. I'm not sure the movie would have held together without Day-Lewis' method madness anchoring the whole thing, but as a bizarre, almost hellish, bleached-out period film, it's hard to think of anything that's tackled this kind of subject successfully in recent years without trumpeting the "revisionist" label. There Will Be Blood is truly an original work of art. Then again, I can think of quite a few John Ford movies I'd watch again before giving this one a second view. As rewarding and original as it was, this movie hurt my brain.

I blame said damage partially on the soundtrack, which screeched and caromed like a derailing train in scenes seemingly bereft of accompanying drama. It's clear that a peculiar brand of harshness was central to Anderson's portrayal of the period, and he certainly achieved that visually. Greenwood's soundtrack offered no relief – not that it absolutely must – but instead piled on the dread in a way that would make John Carpenter proud. If Anderson's filmic vision was one of sandpaper and grit, Greenwood's soundtrack felt like a nail file dragged slowly across it.

As an experiment in sinister, minimalist composition, I think the soundtrack holds some interest. Greenwood and company have trafficked in existential dread for years (somewhere along the line, they became our generation's Pink Floyd), so I guess it made sense to recruit one of the creators of a fully-realized, haunting rock sound. But I'm not sure that Greenwood's creation works particularly well for a movie, precisely because it offers no contrast with or complement to what's actually on screen. It is monochromatic, harsh and unforgiving; the violin crescendos scream at you as if a slasher is waiting around the bend. The movie beats you to a pulp, and the soundtrack comes by and kicks you in the head just to be sure.

I have no problem with atmospheric gloom (Michael Mann may be the standard bearer for that) or high musical drama (think of all those Lost cliffhangers) but both are typically leavened with something to keep you from clawing your eyes out; too much of anything, especially within the confines of a nearly three-hour period piece, can be a bad thing. Anderson used Greenwood's music sparingly – thankfully. But the sparse appearances stood out even more, calling attention to themselves like the ravings of the deranged minister.

I don't doubt that all of this was intentional – as I said, there is something about this movie (and a few others in Anderson's ouvre) that screams "LOOK AT ME, I'M SERIOUS." Maybe that's what happens when you've never surpassed the popularity of your light-hearted riff on seventies porn - you go and make really serious movies until people listen to what you have to say. Judging by the critical acclaim, Anderson was successful in finally getting people to take him goddamn seriously. I just don't think he needed a soundtrack to add another layer of misery on top of it.

What do you think?