Anderson’s thesis is brutal: The competition in me will win. And when it does, I will be alone. There will be blood. But there will be no redemption. Only the sucking sound of a milkshake, drained to the dregs.

Most period dramas use lush, orchestral strings. There Will Be Blood uses a bow scraped violently across a cello. Greenwood’s score (for which he was disqualified by the Academy for being "too derivative," a decision widely mocked since) is a masterpiece of dissonance. Tracks like "Prospectors Arrive" and "Henry Plainview" vibrate with atonal panic. It sounds like the earth itself screaming as men rip metal from its veins. The music does not tell you how to feel; it makes you feel uncomfortable.

Compared to CGI-heavy blockbusters of 2007 (like Transformers ), feels like an artifact from a different planet. Yet, it has aged more gracefully than almost any film of its era.

Anderson establishes this tone immediately. The opening sequence is a masterclass in visual storytelling, devoid of speech, relying solely on Johnny Greenwood’s assaulting score and the harsh sounds of industry. We see Daniel Plainview (Daniel Day-Lewis) digging alone in a deep, dark hole. He breaks his leg falling down a shaft, yet he drags himself across the rocks to assay his find. It is a birth scene of sorts—the birth of a monster. We watch him progress from a lone prospector to a "family man" (adopting an orphaned baby for the optics) to a ruthless operator. By the time he arrives in Little Boston, California, the audience understands that this is a man who views the earth as something to be conquered, not cultivated.