What do you get when you mix political activism with just a touch of stoner comedy? 

Paul Thomas Anderson’s newest film, “One Battle After Another” follows a former political activist, who is now a cannabis smoking, paranoid father, trying to save his rebellious daughter from an enemy of his revolutionary past. This is a political movie, which coincides with the increasingly divided political landscape of life in the United States. The film juxtaposes far-left political revolutionaries with far-right white supremacists, using both in a humorous manner while also packing a punch of political commentary.

Loosely adapted from the Thomas Pynchon novel, “Vineland,” the film stars Leonardo DiCaprio and Chase Infiniti playing opposite Sean Penn as antagonist Steven J. Lockjaw. The cast also features Benicio Del Toro, Regina Hall, and Teyana Taylor in supporting roles. 

Coming in at 160 minutes, “One Battle After Another” is not a short movie, but its quick pace, tense chase sequences, and humorous moments keep it from dragging. 

The film opens on a revolutionary group known as the French 75 freeing immigrants from a detention center at the California-Mexico border. Perfidia Beverly Hills, played by Taylor, holds military officer Lockjaw at gunpoint. The incident begins his lustful obsession with her, which contradicts the views of his white supremecist colleagues.

In the weeks following events at the detention center, Lockjaw stalks Perfidia and catches her in the act of a revolutionary bombing. However, Lockjaw allows Perfidia to go free after a sexual encounter between the two. Soon after, Perfidia gives birth to a daughter fathered by fellow revolutionary, Pat Calhoun, played by DiCaprio, who, despite his best efforts, is quite underwhelming in his role. 

Pat has the most screentime and the most laughs, but he feels like one of the least interesting characters. What should be a very emotional portrayal of a father trying to protect his daughter is reduced to largely comedic relief. As Pat begins to put his revolutionary days in the past to take care of their daughter, his relationship with Perfidia grows increasingly strained. For Perfidia, who is dealing with postpartum depression, the revolution remains at the forefront of her life. After she is arrested during a heist gone wrong, Lockjaw intervenes, allowing her freedom at the cost of the rest of the French 75. 

The remainder of the film takes place 16 years later. Pat is now raising his daughter Willa, played by Chase Infiniti, who steals the show. Lockjaw, who is now a colonel, comes after the pair. Unbeknownst to Pat, a group of revolutionaries take Willa to safety, and Pat must track them down and help protect Willa. The film follows from there with a set of car chases, shootouts, and set pieces that increase the tension while also probing deeper into the world of these characters. 

Regina Hall’s character, Deandra, had a similar underdevelopment problem. Deandra feels more like a plot device than a developed role. What little of Hall’s performance we got to see is fantastic, but she hardly feels like a character. Deandra should have had a larger role in the first act. If the audience really knew how much Perfidia meant to Deandre, the emotional impact of Deandre protecting Perfidia’s daughter could have been far greater.

From the moment you meet Penn’s Lockjaw, you despise him. Lockjaw is a downright despicable character; he’s racist, perverted, and sadistic. However, despite how disgusting he is, viewers cannot help but admire Penn’s performance. 

Lockjaw is reminiscent of some of the truly more horrific antagonists to ever grace the screen. His putrid essence combines Hans Beckert of “M” and Max Cady of “Cape Fear.” As with the other characters in the film, there is something performative about the character; Lockjaw is a white supremacist, yet he claims to be in love with a Black woman. However, their relationship reads more like lust. 

The characters’ performative nature is a prevalent theme—whether it is in Willa and Pat’s political activism or Lockjaw’s attempts to join a far-right white supremacist organization, “The Christmas Adventurers Club,” despite his blatant violations of their code. The characters are motivated by personal reasons rather than the causes of their respective political movements. Perfidia and Pat chase a thrill, while Lockjaw sees admission to a white supremacist organization as another rank for him to achieve.

Within the movie, Del Toro’s Sensei Sergio is the film’s one character with sincere intentions. While the French 75 plant bombs and cause public uproar, the Sensei houses immigrants and provides them with food, clothing, and other survival essentials. Sergio is not driven by the thrill of activism like Pat and Perfidia, and unlike the couple, Sergio has found a way to continue the revolution while simultaneously balancing his family life.

Infiniti is the highlight of this film, even surpassing Penn’s brilliant performance. Although this is only Infiniti’s second credit, she commands the scene anytime she is present. The scene where Lockjaw and Willa meet for the first time inside a church is the highlight of the film. Lockjaw knows that in order to join “The Christmas Adventurers Club”, he has to kill Willa, but his feelings towards Perfidia hold him back. Inside the confined space, the raw talent of both actors is on full display. Viewers can feel the fear, anger, and frustration between Infiniti and Penn bleeding through the reels of film.

A central part of the film is this juxtaposition of lust and love. Lockjaw claims to have been in love with Perfidia, but it is more of a fetishization of the danger she represents to him. The relationship of Perfidia and Pat, which helps drive the first act of the movie, is not really love, at least not unconditional love. After Willa is born, Perfidia uses the revolution to push her daughter away, repressing her own love for Willa. However, although she does not display this love does not mean it does not exist. Emotions are complex, and the film does not avoid this fact. Sometimes what you think is best for someone may not feel like it at the moment. Sometimes trying to protect someone actually results in hurting them. 

Much of the film’s tense mood can be attributed to Johnny Greenwood’s score. It’s a brilliant piece of composing, as Greenwood uses piano and drum-heavy jazz-esque sound that builds upon the tension on screen until the credits roll. 

Fans of Anderson’s previous film, “Licorice Pizza,” will likely remember the cinematography of Michael Bauman, whose long and dialogue-heavy shots help craft the environment of this film. Many of these shots feel reminiscent of John Cassavetes, whose films are full of lingering conversational shots which bring you into the world of the film. Bauman emulates this, utilizing tracking shots to follow subjects through their conversations, making you feel like a fly on the wall. 

The film leaves its viewer conflicted, waging a mental battle of their own. While the technical aspects of its construction, such as the acting, directing, cinematography, and score are all fantastic, much of the writing falls short. The lack of character depth is frustrating, and the lack of balance between serious and comedic moments creates an uneven tone. 

Despite having significant flaws, when it comes to meeting the political moment, the writing shines with astute commentary that eclipses the occasional messiness of its narrative. Ultimately the film leaves viewers with the message that a lack of sincerity, whether it is in your family life or in politics, is a dangerous thing, because when you lose your sincerity, it is very easy to lose your empathy.