Why the There Will Be Blood Movie Script is Actually a Masterclass in Visual Writing

Why the There Will Be Blood Movie Script is Actually a Masterclass in Visual Writing

Paul Thomas Anderson didn't just write a movie. He wrote a monster. When you sit down with the there will be blood movie script, you aren't looking at a standard Hollywood blueprint filled with snappy dialogue and "cut to" transitions every thirty seconds. Honestly, it’s more like a prose poem or a manual on how to destroy a man's soul through sheer silence.

The first fifteen pages are basically a silent film.

Daniel Plainview, played by Daniel Day-Lewis in a performance that probably haunted the dreams of every other actor in 2007, doesn't say a word. He digs. He falls. He breaks his leg. He drags his mangled body across the desert. If you’re a screenwriter, this is terrifying stuff. We’re taught to give characters "voice," but Anderson gives Plainview a shovel and a silver streak of greed. That’s it. That is the character.

The weird relationship between Upton Sinclair and the there will be blood movie script

Most people know the film is "based" on Upton Sinclair’s 1927 novel Oil!. But if you actually read the book and then read the there will be blood movie script, you’ll realize Anderson basically performed a lobotomy on the source material. He kept the first couple of chapters and then went completely off-script. Sinclair was writing a massive, sprawling socialist critique of the oil industry. He cared about the politics. Anderson? He cared about the madness.

He changed the protagonist's name from J. Arnold Ross to Daniel Plainview. He simplified the father-son dynamic. He stripped away the grand political movements to focus on a singular, toxic rivalry between a man of the earth and a man of the spirit—Plainview and Eli Sunday.

It’s a bold move. Usually, when you adapt a classic, you try to respect the author’s intent. Anderson essentially looked at Sinclair's book and said, "Thanks for the oil rigs, I’ll take it from here."

The power of the "Action Line"

In screenwriting, we talk about "action lines." These are the descriptions between the dialogue. In most scripts, they’re functional. "He walks to the door." "She sighs." In the there will be blood movie script, the action lines are visceral. They describe the mud, the soot, and the way the light hits the grease.

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Look at the way the script describes the fire at the derrick. It isn't just "there is a fire." It’s a description of a geyser of "black blood" erupting from the earth. The script treats the oil like a living, breathing antagonist. It’s an ink-black demon that demands sacrifices. First, it takes a man's life. Then, it takes a boy’s hearing.

Why the dialogue feels like a threat

When the characters finally do speak, it’s rarely a conversation. It’s a negotiation or a sermon. Daniel Plainview doesn't chat. He pitches. He sells his "family man" image to the people of Little Boston while planning to drain them dry.

The famous "I drink your milkshake" line is the one everyone quotes at parties. It’s a meme now. But in the context of the script, it’s the climax of a decades-long psychological war. Interestingly, that specific phrase wasn't just a random invention of Anderson's. He found it in a transcript of a 1924 Congressional hearing regarding the Teapot Dome scandal. Senator Albert Fall used the "milkshake" analogy to explain how he could drain oil from a neighboring property.

Anderson took a dry piece of political history and turned it into the most aggressive culinary metaphor in cinema history.

The Sunday brothers mystery

There is a weird quirk in the there will be blood movie script that still trips people up. Paul Dano plays two characters: Paul Sunday and Eli Sunday. Originally, they were supposed to be played by two different actors. Kel O'Neill was cast as Eli, but he left the production early on. Anderson called Dano—who was already cast as Paul—and asked him to play both roles.

This changed the script’s DNA. It added a layer of uncanny valley weirdness. Is Eli lying about having a brother? Are they twins? Does it even matter? The script treats them as two sides of the same coin: the one who sold out early and the one who wanted to build an empire of God.

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The ending that divided everyone

The final sequence in the bowling alley is some of the wildest writing you’ll ever see. It’s titled "DEAREST DANIEL" in some drafts, but the actual filmed sequence is a nightmare of excess. Plainview is wealthy, drunk, and bored. He’s achieved everything he wanted—total isolation.

When you read the there will be blood movie script's ending, you realize the violence isn't a shock. It’s inevitable. The script builds this pressure cooker of resentment between the "false prophet" and the "self-made man."

Eli Sunday comes to Plainview asking for money, crawling back to the man he once thought he could control. Plainview’s reaction isn't just anger; it’s a total release of the beast we saw in the first fifteen minutes of the film. The shovel is replaced by a silver bowling pin.

What aspiring writers can learn from this mess

If you're trying to write your own screenplay, don't try to copy Anderson’s style exactly. You’ll probably fail. He has a specific rhythm that only works because he’s also the director. However, there are three massive takeaways you can steal:

  1. Physicality over talk. If a character can show their motivation by digging a hole or building a fence, let them do that instead of talking about their "feelings."
  2. Specific details matter. Don't just say "they strike oil." Describe the smell. Describe the vibration in the ground. Describe how the oil stains the skin.
  3. Contrast is king. The script works because of the friction between the industrial (Plainview) and the spiritual (Eli). Without that clash, it’s just a movie about a guy getting rich.

The technicality of the "silent" opening

Let's talk about the 1898 prologue. It covers several years in just a few pages. In a lesser script, this would be a montage with a voiceover. "I started as a silver miner, but the work was hard..."

Anderson refuses that crutch. He writes the sequence in a series of "sluglines" (the headers that tell you where a scene takes place) that jump through time. We see the evolution of a man through his tools. From a pickaxe to a winch. From a lone hole in the ground to a small team of desperate men. It’s a masterclass in visual storytelling.

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The script proves that you don't need a massive budget or 500 pages of lore to build a world. You just need a character with a singular, terrifying goal.

Common misconceptions about the script

A lot of people think the script is some massive 200-page tome. It’s actually fairly standard in length. The reason the movie feels so epic is the pacing. Anderson allows the scenes to breathe. He trusts the actors.

Another misconception is that the film is a literal adaptation of Sinclair’s Oil!. As mentioned, it really isn't. Sinclair’s estate was reportedly fine with the changes, largely because the core "spirit" of the oil boom’s brutality remained intact. But if you’re reading the script for a book report, you’re going to be very confused when you realize the book has a lot more to say about 1920s labor unions and a lot less to say about "drinking milkshakes."


Actionable Next Steps for Study

If you want to truly understand how the there will be blood movie script works, you need to engage with it actively. Don't just read it once and put it away.

  • Watch and Read Simultaneously: Open the script on your laptop and play the first 20 minutes of the movie. Note what was added on set. You’ll notice Daniel Day-Lewis adds "grunts" and "breaths" that aren't on the page but are essential to the character.
  • Analyze the "Milkshake" Scene: Look at the dialogue structure. Notice how Plainview repeats Eli's words back to him to mock him. It’s a classic power-play technique in writing.
  • Compare to the Book: Spend an hour reading the first 50 pages of Upton Sinclair’s Oil!. Mark the moments Anderson chose to keep. Usually, it's the most "cinematic" images—the father and son traveling across the empty landscape.
  • Write a Silent Scene: Try to write a 5-page scene with no dialogue. Only action. Use the opening of this script as your guide. If you can’t tell the story through what the character does, your character isn't strong enough yet.

The script is a reminder that cinema is a visual medium first. Dialogue is just the seasoning on the steak. In this case, the steak is raw, bloody, and exactly what we wanted.