ONE BATTLE AFTER ANOTHER. Anderson is still great

One Battle After Another, or as the witty Serbian title goes Jedna bitka za drugom, has been showing in cinemas since Friday. It is a must-see for anyone searching in mainstream cinema for artistry and bold, individual social and political commentary. Paul Thomas Anderson has delivered a truly strong, unconventional, and thought-provoking work, and it deserves to be seriously discussed.

Yes, this film expresses modernity, breathes it in, understands it more deeply than any of us, and strives to capture its fluid vibe. Surprisingly, it does so through cinematic means that recall the golden decade of the 1970s in Hollywood. To tell a story about the erosion of values in today’s United States, Anderson reaches for a style proven decades ago. He borrows freely from the scrappier, independent branch of New Hollywood, with its anti-American, anti-establishment message. The effect is sharp, suggestive, and nuanced—like the ideological chaos and nihilism found in masterpieces such as Scorsese’s Taxi Driver or Apocalypse Now. The satire and grotesque present here immediately evoke Robert Altman. Anderson proves that these stylistic tools need not feel outdated—in fact, they come across as daringly fresh, rebellious, and vital.

Of course, the above references are broad, spiritual associations; a direct, detailed comparison between these filmmakers would make little sense. Because Anderson is Anderson. Still one of cinema’s greatest individualists, he has an imagination and narrative voice so unique that no one would dare try to imitate them.

After the sentimental, colorful, and eye-pleasing Licorice Pizza, Anderson now demonstrates almost the opposite: that sometimes ugly means beautiful. That grain in the image, that format, that beautifully swaying, trembling handheld camera tracking the characters, that deliberate under-lighting of shots… Imperfection, the messy distortions of the world onscreen, serve a purpose. After all, One Battle After Another is about inequality and all kinds of dirt, literal and metaphorical.

At the stage of Phantom Thread, I felt as though Anderson had entered a more mature, restrained, “serious” era of his career—abandoning the energy, vitality, and madness of his younger works. One Battle After Another proves me wrong. Already in the first act, with its brazen language and feverish atmosphere of revolution, the film makes it clear this won’t be a polite or subdued tale. That opening alone could fuel an entire generation of young filmmakers with its sheer energy—and still have some left over.

Naturally, this is not a film for everyone; at no point does it feel like it’s trying to please. The first act may be such a heavy experience that it pushes many viewers away. Yet after about forty minutes, a different kind of cinema emerges—daring, expressive, and distorted, like Catch Me If You Can in a funhouse mirror. The shift surprises, yet feels natural and inevitable. Anderson shows an uncanny sense of tone, balancing even the most extreme elements. What’s remarkable is that this never feels lost between artistry and vulgarity; instead, it feels considered and intentional.

I doubt anyone else could have made this particular film. Such an ambitious project required both maturity and youthful spirit in equal measure. Anderson possesses both, and he charges ahead with complete confidence.

Though it begins with a long and demanding prologue, the film soon bursts into a dynamic sequence full of slapstick humor and chase-movie tension—yet without losing an ounce of emotional seriousness. From there, it never slows down, and the suffocating atmosphere lingers all the way to the final frame.

The director serves everything in beautiful symbiosis, with humor and lightness. Anderson speaks as he feels, refusing compromise. And since he is an eccentric who sees the world in a very particular way, we receive a moving treatise on the anxieties of modern life. Our world belongs to countless people with often contradictory views. One cannot extract clear conclusions—only craft a fascinating panorama of frantic, divided contemporary America.

Anderson examines it all with deep curiosity, filtered through the extravagant lens of his imagination. He escapes realism, aiming more at questions than answers. Yet amid the noise, we sense this is the best possible way to understand a world hurtling toward destruction.

It is impossible not to note the rigor Anderson must have demanded of his actors. They are his instruments; he knows precisely what each should bring to the screen. There is no room for indulgent showcases that would weaken the suspense. DiCaprio, drawing again on his comedic, neurotic man-in-crisis persona from Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, is magnetic as ever. Sean Penn, meanwhile, perhaps flees formula more than ever before in his career. His performance is extraordinary—one of the finest antiheroes I’ve seen in years. Every twitch of his face is calculated to the millimeter. His signature striding figure, though caricatured, is both riveting and terrifyingly human.

There are also many lesser-known actors here, fortunate to work with a director unrivaled in handling performers. Each has a chance to shine, supported by precise and impactful dialogue.

And since we’re speaking of actors, it must be said: the film would not be the same without its music. The score becomes a performer in itself, counterpointing the acting of DiCaprio, Penn, and Del Toro, always present in the background to sow an undercurrent of unease. Anderson once again collaborates with Jonny Greenwood, who—as usual—experiments and seeks new ground. His contribution is essential to this meticulously controlled chaos.

What isn’t here? Nervous, jittery cinema about human savagery reminiscent of the Safdie brothers’ Uncut Gems. The best car chase in film history. Streams of profanity that would make Tarantino blush. A biting yet intelligent parody of hard-headed military men. And much more: countless playful games with genres, styles, and tropes. Everyone will find their own “small” moment and a few “big” ones too.

One Battle After Another may not even fully be my kind of cinema, yet the longer it went on, the more it electrified me. Personally, I feel Anderson and I differ in sensibility—certain moments didn’t land for me, including the final scene just before the credits. Still, despite this misalignment, I must admit: this is one of the year’s finest films. An epic poem, swelling majestically like the ocean. A brilliant tragicomedy, taut with tension, and also a naturalistic ode to modern life. I hope this is the film that finally earns Anderson his long-deserved Oscar for directing. Rise and shine.

Go to the cinema and confront the brave voices of American filmmaking—because there are not many left.