It all starts with a bang. Or in the case of Leonardo DiCaprio’s Bob ‘Rocketman’ Fergison, the fizz, pop, crackle of fireworks. At the U.S.-Mexico border, French 75, a power-for-the-people militant group, rescue detained immigrants and kick-start a new American revolution, all to the thunderclap of pyrotechnics. 

Led by Teyana Taylor’s ferocious Perfidia Beverly Hills, this high-risk breakout defines the rest of her, and Bob’s, lives: Perfidia has a fateful encounter with Col. Steven J. Lockjaw (a scene-chewing Sean Penn), and Bob commits himself to anarchist life by her side. 

It’s a love triangle that grips right away. Lockjaw’s obsessive nature is dangerous, almost unhinged, as is Perfidia’s fondness for chaos, and their dynamic is both off-putting and alluring to watch. 

Although, it’s a prologue that may do more damage than good. Depending on your stomach for farce, your mileage may vary — Lockjaw is every bit a ‘90s Jim Carrey goof, his clownish walk and cartoon voice like nails on a chalkboard. For those banking on director/writer Paul Thomas Anderson to deliver his familiar dark, ominous style, Penn’s comically large erection is a sign that this engine is tuned-up for satire. 

Recovery does come in the form of a time jump. Sixteen years later, Perfidia has vanished. Bob is now a self confessed ‘alcohol and drugs lover’, living with daughter Willa (the film’s silver bullet, Chase Infiniti), hiding out from the law. 

Where Willa is considered, Anderson dials down the zaniness. She’s a tough would-be revolutionary, offering the films only semblance of realism — Day Lewis in There Will Be Blood is a distant memory when Penn, Willa’s counterpoint, joins white supremacist group The Christmas Adventurers, launching a Carry On level of wacko from which One Battle After Another struggles to recover. 

As Penn’s lunacy burns, though, Infiniti is a balm for every ludicrous choice Anderson makes. She’s also a powerful actor, required to convey a lot with little dialogue whilst holding her own against DiCaprio at arguably the height of his powers. 

Her dynamo moment, as Lockjaw’s forces converge, is when French 75 locate her in a school bathroom of all places, sending her mothers old associate, Deandra (Regina Hall), to extract her. It’s an eerie meeting of past and future, with Infinite’s stillness captivating where Anderson’s liking for the outrageous cannot. Hall, too, exists in a bleaker, more uncanny realm compared to Lockjaw and Bob, the latter spending much of the film with Sensei Sergio (Benicio del Toro, a true comedian), trying to find a way to charge his old-school cellphone. 

This stretch encompasses the film’s second act, at last striking a balance between tones: Bob is every bit a comedic sidekick propelled into a protagonist role – bumbling and slapstick – whilst Sensei Sergio plays it so straight, so cool, it’s a palette cleanser. 

Yet, there’s a feeling that all of this might benefit from an overhaul in tone. Trading in his signature ice-cold melancholy, Anderson’s gambol through Weirdsville certainly strikes as a filmmaker betting $130 million on his latest thematic interest. He’s quite taken with the eccentric, often bulldozing through earnest moments in favour of satire. 

There are flashes of his more sombre work here and there, like Phantom Thread and The Master, yet it’s expunged, quite confoundingly, by patchy humour that seems tailor-made for Anderson himself, rather than his audience.

In cinemas nationwide now