One Battle After Another Review. I’ll be honest — One Battle After…

I’ll be honest — One Battle After Another wasn’t a film I had any intention of seeing. The trailer didn’t impress me. It looked like your typical awards-bait picture, full of big names and loaded with left-wing talking points. No doubt it would win critical praise and film nerd love, but for most audiences, it was destined to fly under the radar.

Further, the subject matter — a left-wing bomb maker — felt like it couldn’t have been released at a more ironic cultural moment in America. To put it bluntly, it’s not the kind of story I have much appetite for these days (if ever).

And yet, while the film’s opening weekend seemed to confirm those assumptions, I heard enough from trusted sources claiming this wasn’t just good but possibly the best film of the year. Skeptical as I was, September had been bone-dry for new releases, so I figured I might as well give it a shot.

Directed by Paul Thomas Anderson, One Battle After Another follows “Ghetto” Pat Calhoun / Bob Ferguson (Leonardo DiCaprio), a member of the far-left “revolutionary” group known as the French 75, where his specialty is explosives. While in the group, Ferguson falls for fellow member Perfidia Beverly Hills (Teyana Taylor). During a mission to break out detained illegal immigrants, Hills humiliates Col. Steven J. Lockjaw (Sean Penn), sparking both his vendetta against the French 75 and a twisted sexual obsession with Hills.

One of the film’s stranger dynamics is the almost perverse connection between Hills and Lockjaw. The film leans heavily into their bizarre chemistry — her thrill-seeking through acts of terror, his repeated humiliation at her hands — suggesting that despite being on opposite sides, they’re cut from the same cloth.

When Hills becomes pregnant, Ferguson wants to walk away from revolution for the sake of their child, while Hills refuses to let go. It’s a reversal of traditional gender expectations: the father prioritizing home and family, the mother clinging to the cause. At one point Hills puts it bluntly: “I put myself first.” The true “revolution.”

Their daughter, Charlene Calhoun / Willa Ferguson (Chase Infiniti), grows up bearing the fallout of her parents’ decisions. Lockjaw eventually re-enters their lives, determined to correct his own mistakes so he can gain entry into a secret white supremacist group, the Christmas Adventurers Club.

The acting here is universally strong, but Sean Penn’s Lockjaw steals the show. Penn embodies him so thoroughly that you almost forget you’re watching a performance. Yes, it’s the kind of caricature we’ve come to expect (still waiting for Hollywood to give us a right-wing character with real nuance beyond either “irredeemably hateful” or “secret hypocrite”), but Penn executes it with such conviction that it feels like he’s channeling a historical figure.

Despite the film’s perspective, I have to give credit to its portrayal of the military and law enforcement, which felt surprisingly authentic. The standout was the interrogator Danvers (James “Jim” Raterman), who brought a level of realism I didn’t expect. As a former U.S. Navy member, Raterman’s performance mirrored interactions I’ve experienced myself — so much so that I looked him up afterward and discovered he had actually served as a Homeland Security interrogator. Remarkably, this was his first acting role, yet his performance feels lived-in, grounded, and utterly convincing. Bravo, Raterman.

DiCaprio, as expected, holds his weight. His Ferguson is a revolutionary dulled by drugs, often delivering comic relief, but tragically weighed down by his love for his daughter and the consequences of his own choices. Benicio del Toro also shines as Sergio St. Carlos, whose calm composure provides a sharp contrast to Ferguson’s paranoia.

One Battle After Another is, at its core, a game of cat-and-mouse. The film delivers stretches of genuine intensity — well executed and at times even naturally funny. Still, there are moments that lean toward the unintentionally humorous, such as characters suspiciously sprinting within plain sight of law enforcement without so much as a glance in their direction.

I can fully understand the strong critical response — this is a film with artistry on full display. The performances across the board are excellent, but the craft goes deeper: the soundtrack stands out as well, unique yet memorable, leaning on sweeping, extended pieces rather than scene-specific cues. Anderson’s direction ties all these elements together, weaving a nearly three-hour story into a consistently engaging rhythm. While not every major story beat is as clever as some suggest, they remain compelling, adding layers of depth and complexity to each character.

For all its craft, the beauty of the film only sharpens the ugliness of its worldview.

I know full well that depicting something in a film isn’t the same as endorsing it. Yet this movie cannot escape the glorification of far-left revolutionary violence. In an era where real acts of political violence grow by the week, that depiction doesn’t land as neutral commentary. It lands as indulgence.

One telling moment comes during a bank robbery, when a revolutionary declares, “I’m what power looks like” — just before getting startled as Hills guns someone down, causing the revolutionaries to flee the scene as they are all personally hunted down by the authorities.

It’s a lie. One that thrives on the illusion that each side is the persecuted minority and the other holds all the power. The left, in particular, weaponizes this by labeling opponents as fascists — despite them being democratically elected — and then excusing violence in the name of “resistance.” The film leans into that narrative, portraying it as righteous even as it poisons every relationship its characters hold dear.

But the corruption is not theirs alone. Lockjaw’s white-supremacist obsession is equally abusive and terroristic, and the film fetishizes it in its own way. Whether through the French 75, the Christmas Adventurer’s Club, or Lockjaw’s personal crusade, every group here is cut from the same diseased cloth. The labels differ, but the corruption is the same.

If there’s any brighter thread, it comes through the contrast of the two “father figures” in Willa’s life. One sees her as a burden, a problem to be solved, using her for personal gain. The other, for all his flaws, shows up when it counts — sacrificing when it matters most. But even then, it’s comparing bad to worse.

At its most honest, the film depicts how devastating poor parenting can be: abandonment, abuse, apathy, sloth. It’s all here. And perhaps the only true lesson One Battle After Another offers is this: it doesn’t matter what you say, or what lofty words you use to describe your beliefs. It doesn’t matter what you claim to stand for. In the end, it is your actions that define who you are — and what you truly believe.

“And call no man your father on earth, for you have one Father, who is in heaven. Neither be called instructors, for you have one instructor, the Christ. The greatest among you shall be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” Matthew 23:9–12

Conclusion

One Battle After Another succeeds at nearly everything cinema can do — performances that grip you, artistry that holds your attention, direction that never falters. But it stumbles at the only thing that matters most: its theme. For many, that theme may be an added bonus. For me, it was a major detractor on an otherwise great film. In the end, it’s yet another work where a masterful artist stands willfully far from the good news that would make his craft complete.

5/10