Movie Review: The Tree of Life
As unique of a cinematic journey as it is, a few films come to mind when reflecting on Terrence Malick’s The Tree of Life: the boyhood loss of innocence found in Stand by Me; the grand, universal majesty depicted in 2001; and the natural, visual poetry of Malick’s previous films. However, I couldn’t get one comparison out of my head upon leaving the theatre, and it wasn’t the movie I was expecting. For whatever reason, I kept coming back to Apocalypse Now. Pretentious as it may sound, it feels silly to dub something as formally audacious and intellectually sprawling as Coppola’s masterpiece a mere movie. In fact, you don’t even watch it the way you do most movies. You experience it.
At least Coppola had the good decency of crouching his meditation on man’s descent into violence and animalism within the confines of a “man-on-a-mission” war movie. There’s nothing close to a traditional narrative in Malick’s picture; rather, he treats the audience to a collection of scenes and ideas, images and exchanges, all with the purpose of creating an ultimate illustration of what it means to transition between childhood and adulthood. Yes, there are even dinosaurs in it too, if only for a minute. (Even if the finished film leaves you cold, you have to give the guy points for ambition.)
That’s just the thing when it comes to The Tree of Life – it’s a film of dichotomies. Youth and maturity. Birth and death. Nature, the state of competitive, Shakespearean vaulting ambition; and grace, the state of passive, almost divine tolerance. The film may well be one of the most comprehensive cinematic character study ever made, but it also functions as a uniquely personal experience, provided you’re willing to give yourself over to it.
I didn’t grow up in Waco, Texas in the 1950s. I didn’t have the parents depicted in this film, played here wonderfully by Brad Pitt and Jessica Chastain. And I can easily say that as an eleven-year-old, I did not do many of the things that the character of Jack (Hunter McCracken, delivering perhaps the film’s best performance of all) does in defiance of his strict upbringing. But I know the emotions that Malick is conveying through these moments. I can recall the endless joy and possibility that an innocent mind finds in the mundane. I know how easily, as a child, wonder can turn into fear. I understand the disorienting notion of recognizing that your parents are not infallible deities, but just as flawed as you. Like the film in question, the emotions on display can be intensely personal, but remain wholly universal.
Tree of Life begins with a prologue of loss (complete with a quote from the Book of Job), followed by a history of the universe itself (dinosaurs!), an extended reflection of Jack’s Texas childhood, and ultimately, a decidedly ambiguous climax loaded with both apocalyptic and religious imagery. Most viewers will probably find this finale most baffling, or at least I know I did. However, do not let this section of the film lead you to believe that Tree of Life is impenetrable. It is not a puzzle to be figured out. Yet if you allow yourself to be taken hold of by Malick’s assured and stunningly gorgeous filmmaking, this film will viscerally impact you like few others can. After all, how many movies can you say that about?
Completely disagree but good review
Andrew Wagner
June 27, 2011