Imagine being called a stone by your girlfriend’s mother when you’re clearly a runner—at least, that’s the paradox at the heart of Leonardo DiCaprio’s character, Pat Calhoun, in One Battle After Another. But here’s where it gets controversial: Is Pat really the aimless stone, or is he just a runner trapped in a world that doesn’t understand his direction? The film opens with Pat in motion, chasing after his comrades in the left-wing group French 75, but his girlfriend’s mother’s words linger: ‘She’s a runner, you a stone.’ At first glance, it seems odd—until you see him reunite with his team, brimming with nervous energy but clueless about their plan. His girlfriend, Perfidia (Teyana Taylor), is the true revolutionary, while Pat’s anxiety keeps him spinning in circles, rooted to the same spot. And this is the part most people miss: Pat’s restlessness isn’t aimlessness; it’s a search for purpose. When Perfidia vanishes, leaving him with their daughter, Willa (Chase Infiniti), Pat’s journey truly begins. But it’s not until Willa goes missing that Pat’s paralysis shatters, sending him on a frantic race through tunnels, forests, and rooftops—all while wearing a now-iconic faded plaid robe that doubles as both loungewear and a symbol of his duality. That robe, crafted by costume designer Colleen Atwood, isn’t just a fashion choice; it’s a nod to Pat’s fragmented identity, blending comfort with chaos. Bold claim: The robe is the film’s silent protagonist, mirroring Pat’s struggle between inertia and action. Unlike The Big Lebowski’s Dude, whose robe is purely practical, Pat’s is a statement—a ’90s-era garment that underscores the film’s temporal disorientation. Speaking of The Big Lebowski, DiCaprio reportedly drew inspiration from the Dude’s laid-back vibe, though Pat is anything but ‘terminally relaxed.’ He’s a samurai cowboy slacker, sprinting through life with a gun slung over his shoulder and a man-bun, looking like he belongs in a Tarantino flick. And that’s no accident—the robe-as-daywear trend became a staple in ’90s cinema, reflecting the grunge era’s thrift-store aesthetic. But Pat’s robe isn’t just a throwback; it’s a metaphor for his out-of-time existence. The film, based on Thomas Pynchon’s Vineland, toggles between the ’60s, ’80s, and ’90s, leaving Pat—a slacker-revolutionary, family man, and perpetual adolescent—stranded in a temporal no-man’s-land. By the film’s end, the robe is discarded, symbolizing Pat’s transformation from a lost stone to a grounded runner. He’s no longer split in two; he’s whole, taking selfies on his couch while Willa heads off to protest. Thought-provoking question: Is Pat’s journey one of growth, or has he simply traded one form of stagnation for another? The Steely Dan lyrics that introduced Willa now haunt both characters: ‘I foresee terrible trouble/And I stay here just the same.’ Does Pat truly move forward, or does he remain stuck, just in a different way? Let’s debate in the comments—what do you think?
