Recently, a photo of a posting in a theatre regarding showings of Tree of Life has been making the viral rounds:
Source: http://www.filmschoolrejects.com/news/avon-theater-tree-of-life-no-refunds.php
There have been two camps that have formed regarding it: 1, that modern theatre goers have been dumbed-down by Hollywood-fare such as Transformers 3, or 2, that art film theatres are elitist snobs that have grown out of touch with the film going audience.
If you’ve been following the podcast, you probably have figured out that I’m the art film snob of the group, and this is the reason I’m posting my first review on this site regarding this film. Actually, scratch that: I don’t want to be known as the art film snob. I enjoy a Hollywood schlockfest, the popcorn film, the tent pole films of summer when done with unique, bold visions. There are certain merits in some of those films that I think make the time spent watching them worth it.
I haven’t seen Transformers 3; I haven’t seen Transformers 2. I saw the first one, and I enjoyed it to a minimal degree for what it was; my primary complaint, like most people’s complaints regarding Michael Bay, was the inability to distinguish action (that’s not to mention the sophomoric humor, the cardboard characters, and thin strip of plot that comprises the film). Of course, I went in understanding, “Hey, I’m watching an adaptation of a Saturday-morning cartoon.” Say what you will about diminished expectations, but sometimes that’s all you have to derive enjoyment from something.
I have a certain respect for Michael Bay. He has plenty of haters in the film lover world, and even beyond that – he is probably the most mainstream, successful yet critically hated filmmaker ever. He even has an undeniable vision – mainly comprising of explosions over a blaring AC/DC soundtrack, but a vision, nonetheless. I would rather see something bold and failing than bland and mediocre.
Then there is Terrence Malick. Malick is, almost without doubt, my favorite filmmaker, living or dead. Malick is the antithesis to Michael Bay—in fact, I’m fairly certain that were they to meet, there’d be some sort of nuclear reaction. Malick trades in quiet, poem-like films, and has only made four major films before this film, each regarded almost universally as masterpieces.
Where I have issues with the film snob argument of the above picture is the idea that the audience has grown dumb and unappreciative of Malick’s films over the years. This is a false idea: Malick’s films have never been the sorts that audiences flock to and accept. His highest grossing film, The Thin Red Line, did well, arguably, because Saving Private Ryan came out shortly before it did, and audiences came expecting, falsely, a similar film.
Here’s my confession: when I first saw The Thin Red Line, I heckled it. I wasn’t the only one.
I had never seen anything like it. I thought it pretentious and boring. I wanted war stories. of the sort that Saving Private Ryan traded in – a film I will still hold is a masterpiece of its own sort. However, they are two different types of film, with their only true similarity being the World War II setting. It took me some time, and at some point, it became my favorite war film, and one of my favorite films of all time.
That’s what you have to understand and appreciate about Malick. He doesn’t make films that are easy. His films challenge, and Tree of Life is possibly his most challenging.
The film is ostensibly about nothing less than meanings of life, as told through the memories of a man (Sean Penn) reflecting on his brother’s death and their life growing up in Waco, Texas. Brad Pitt plays his father, a cold, harsh man who loves his children anyway. His memories reflect and celebrate the conflict of nature versus grace, and the story weaves through time and space from the Big Bang, through the dinosaurs, to his past and present.
The film uses little dialogue, and its structure is as mysterious as its story. Malick is one of those filmmakers who use spaces in action and dialogue, the moments of pure cinema where image and sound combine to tell something greater than story. He would probably be well grouped with other filmmakers such as Sergio Leone or Carl Th. Dryer; they all understand greater than most that the core of film is humanity.
I stated earlier that I would rather see something bold and failing than bland and mediocre – the film is certainly not bland or mediocre, nor has it failed. It is probably the most challenging, mind-bending film since 2001: A Space Odyssey, and in some ways, I would call them spiritual companions. Certainly, there is going to be an experience for some in watching both of these films while under certain influences.
I hate saying that a film isn’t for everyone, but I enjoyed it immensely while knowing others might not, just as I didn’t when I first saw Thin Red Line. However, I hope people grow to love it in the same way, as well.
