2007 has been an exceptionally prolific year for ‘90s era wunderkinds. In addition to Paul Thomas Anderson’s latest odd-odyssey titled There Will Be Blood, the list of American auteurs with 07 projects under their belts includes Quentin Tarantino, David Fincher, Steven Soderbergh, Wes Anderson, and the Coen Brothers. Heading into this package-of-prestige, PT Anderson remains the exception amongst his contemporaries. This is no surprise considering Anderson’s refusal to compromise has become somewhat his trademark. His ability to challenge and frustrate is exemplified in his latest project, the Upton Sinclair adaptation of the life of a dark and dirty oil magnate.

Anderson’s Boogie Nights, Magnolia, Punch Drunk Love, and There Will Be Blood not only master their respective genres, but transcend them by creating new vernacular, new style and, most problematic, new marketing nightmares -- three-hour films about porn, frogs, and oil are far from mainstream. But the quiddity of Anderson is his ability to speak directly to cineastes rather than cushion his vision with palatable content to appeal to a broader audience.

While this aesthetic decision clearly limits Anderson’s audience and distribution base, it creates something of an event on those rare occasions when he releases a new project. Fans will attend no matter what, and detractors will go because his projects always incite and get people talking—film students still argue about Magnolia’s sprawling biblical ending.

The only market Anderson doesn’t grab is the casual viewer. Looking at Blood’s poster which features a bible set against a black background, it is clear that Paramount Vantage is banking on name recognition alone.

The perfect example of Anderson’s stubborn integrity occurred when news broke in early 2001 that Anderson would be working with lowbrow comedian Adam Sandler on Punch-Drunk Love. Fans feared a lightweight venture with Sandler-type jokes. Those concerns proved to be unwarranted when Anderson ended up making a truly unique romantic comedy. Whereas Anderson certainly has the raw talent to leap into a higher stratum of popular recognition, he chose instead to revert even further into art house obscurity. The film was not successful -- barley earning half of its nearly thirty million budget. But, it enabled Anderson to be left alone in terms of industry expectation. And it cemented his iconic status in film’s geek community.

For the completion of Blood, credit the daring indie studio Paramount Vantage for giving Anderson free range with his art house project and allowing a generous budget of $25 million to express this idiosyncratic dust bowl vision.

Seeing Anderson’s usually dynamic style dialed down to a virtual crawl is startling. As the prospecting misanthrope named Plainview (Daniel Day Lewis) maneuvers for land and painstakingly slurps it out with his trusty crew led by Ciarán Hinds, the languid pacing moves as viscously as the prehistoric sludge that Plainview pines after. It’s ironic that the film’s title guarantees violence because the blood here does anything but splatter. It oozes slowly and refuses to yield rewards for vengeance seekers until the closing moments of the film when industry and religion collide metaphorically.

Blood rises above the standard turn-of-the-century period piece to become something of an oddity. Fans will support him, as expected, but the general public and a number of valued critics may be turned off by this strange film that’s been called a "western horror" by its director.

The film’s recent failure to rank anywhere near the National Board of Review’s annual list is a bad omen. But if Anderson’s career has proven anything it’s that he’s impervious to omens. Anderson, it must be said, creates his own fate.