Paul Thomas Anderson’s ‘One Battle After Another' Test Screens in Midwest: Two Cuts, Same Chaos

Paul Thomas Anderson’s highly anticipated action-comedy “One Battle After Another” has screened in the Midwest this past week, and sources confirm two different versions were shown—one running just over 150 minutes, the other a tad lengthier. Despite the slight disparity in runtime, one thing’s clear: this is PTA’s most accessible, fastest-paced, and, frankly, most absurd film to date.

I’ve compiled notes from various sources. If you’d prefer to watch the film with no prior knowledge of its plot or characters, now’s the time to stop reading.

The film is a wild concoction—part road movie, part satirical farce, part explosive actioner—with unmistakable echoes of “It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World,” that’s the one film it was compared to. It opens with a bang: literally. The first shot is of an ICE detention center, and within minutes, members of a rogue resistance group known as “French 75” storm it, freeing over 200 detainees. From there, the film sprints into madness.

Leonardo DiCaprio leads the ensemble as Bob, aka “Ghetto Pat,” a jittery ex-activist now living off the grid. Teyana Taylor co-stars as Profidia, a no-nonsense firebrand who wakes up Sean Penn’s Lockjaw—an ex–white supremacist cult leader—with a kiss, triggering a series of events that send the film spinning in every direction. Lockjaw gets obsessed. Bob gets paranoid. And Profidia gets pregnant.

Sixteen years later, we’re in the dilapidated desert town of Baktan Cross. Bob refuses to use a cell phone, living in perpetual fear that Lockjaw is still out to kill him. Meanwhile, Lockjaw has joined a White Supremacist, holiday song singing, militia turned club called “The Christmas Adventurers Club,” which requires background checks for full membership. Naturally, Lockjaw has a 16-year-old daughter he never told anyone about, and now she’s a liability.

From there, the plot thickens. Regina Hall’s Deandra plays a pivotal role, hiding the daughter while Bob and Lockjaw each believe she’s with the other. Benicio del Toro pops up as Sensei, a karate instructor smuggling children through underground tunnels. There are black nuns growing weed in the mountains. A detective tailing Lockjaw. Explosions. Car chases. Riots. Fireworks. And at least one moment where a character screams, “I’m fucking Tom Cruise!” during a high-speed pursuit.

It’s a Paul Thomas Anderson film, sure, but this isn’t “There Will Be Blood,” or “The Master.” It’s comedic absurdity with a dash of action, and doused in Fear and Loathing-style anarchy. Shot in VistaVision and select sequences on IMAX, the cinematography is said to be breathtaking—bathed in golden-hour natural light and kinetic handheld movement. Anderson’s work behind the camera has never been more confident, even as he wades into absolute lunacy.

Johnny Greenwood’s score oscillates between high tension and playful mischief, grounding the more chaotic moments with sonic weight. The soundtrack veers delightfully leftfield: Steely Dan’s “Dirty Work,” Sheck Wes’ “Mo Bamba,” and even The Shirelles’ “Soldier Boy” make appearances.

Sean Penn, unrecognizable and freakishly ripped, is getting the early Oscar talk. He weirdly slurs through a performance that’s both terrifying and strangely tragic—like a roided-up Colonel Kurtz with a limp and a twisted libido. His character’s descent into madness is the film’s spine, and he very nearly walks away with the whole movie.

Clocking in at either 2.5 hours depending on the cut, the film still moves like a rocket. After the breakneck first half hour, the final two hours unfold over 24 hours, with shades of “Magnolia”-style convergence of seven overlapping narratives.

This is PTA’s most modern-feeling film —TikTok, Instagram, and iPhones are name-dropped more than once. Yes, it’s silly. Yes, it’s messy. But there’s a warm, even wholesome father/daughter story embedded in the chaos, and a satirical jab at military-industrial idiocy that feels timely without being didactic.

Is it his best film? No. Is it his worst? Not even close. It’s the kind of film that dares to be dumb and brilliant in the same breath. Part screwball epic, part socio-political statement, “One Battle After Another” has PTA swinging for the weird fences, and he still mostly connects in fascinating, if not always flawless, ways. Expect this one to divide the base—and possibly unite a few new converts along the way.