Terence Malick’s The Tree of Life is probably the must-see movie of the year. Forget the new Transformers, Hangover or Pirates of the Caribbean movies. This is an event movie. Simply put, if you are passionate about cinema, you have to see this movie. Does this you mean you have to like it? No, in fact, it’s probably going to be the most divisive movie of the year. No one can quite agree on what this movie is about. You’re bound to find hundreds of different interpretations of it on the Internet. This will not be one of them.
Yes, you read that right; this will not be an interpretation. I’m still not entirely sure what to think about the film. Once I see it again, I’m sure I will write an interpretation, but for now, I’m primarily concerned with the film as cinema. How can a movie address the entirety of existence and the history of the universe in less than three hours and still be watchable? Essentially, why is The Tree of Life a good movie?
Terence Malick may be an iconoclast director who does not care for conventional filmmaking, but he knows that his ideas will not matter if people fall asleep or walk out of the theater (many moviegoers have already done this during The Tree of Life, but I can’t speak for them). He will not pander to audiences, but he does want them to come along. His first masterstroke in creating an interesting movie for his ideas to inhabit comes with how he handles the voiceovers. Malick has used voiceovers in every movie he has made, but in The Tree of Life, they sound quieter and more indistinct, less like narration and more like prayers or whispers. We can hear them, but just barely. This is a brilliant way to draw viewers into his film because our first instinct when we hear a whisper is to lean forward and try to make it out more clearly. Kelly Reichardt uses a similar technique in her brilliant Meek’s Cutoff by having the women on the wagon train listen from far away as their husbands discuss plans. The overheard dialogue in that film is even harder to make out, but it feels just out of reach as if we can almost grasp it. What a wonderful way to draw us into the story. Instead of bombarding us with noise, Malick and Reichardt use quiet and near silences to have us grasping out into the story, wanting to know what the characters are saying, wanting to know what’s ahead. Of course, Malick has never been afraid to crank the volume up to 11 (see The Thin Red Line, with its DVD instructions to “play the movie loud”).
Terence Malick is such a legendary filmmaker that he always attracts talented people to his movies, both in front and behind the camera. For the second time (the first being the beautiful The New World), Malick works with the brilliant cinematographer Emmanuel Lubeski, most famous for his work with director Alfonso Cuarón on films such as Y Tu Mamá También and Children of Men. In Cuarón’s films, Lubeski’s visuals are usually dominated by handheld shots following characters through extended takes (think of the final battle scene in Children of Men). Although Malick tends not to use longer takes in The Tree of Life, the approach is very similar. Many of the shots involve following behind characters as they walk around houses, buildings and streets. The very first shot of the film is from behind Jessica Chastain as she looks out of a window. The dominance of shots from behind the characters, especially as they walk, creates a sense of being lead into another world. These characters would still live their lives if the cameras were off. We’re just following along with them. There may be more shots from in front of the characters, but I can only remember one: after Jack has shot his brother’s finger with a BB-Gun, he walks through a forest, then stops, turns around and starts walking back toward the camera. I need to revisit the film and see if there are more tracking shots like that, but it’s such a powerful image that I can imagine Malick wanting to single it out.
The other major visual talent that Terence Malick employs behind the camera is production designer Jack Fisk, who has worked with Malick on all of his films. Fisk’s greatest accomplishment in The Tree of Life is to create an entire world for these characters to inhabit. This is the key to why the movie works. It attempts no less than to encompass everything in life. It visualizes the birth and destruction of the Universe. It even has dinosaurs. And yet, the film balances this epic scope with a fully grounded depiction of a small town in Texas. The treatment of the family drama is philosophical and unconventional enough to make sure that this blend is not incongruous. The movie doesn’t suddenly become “normal” when Brad Pitt shows up. But the entire environment of the family’s house and the small town around it is so fully realized that it becomes a distinct place. Malick explores the characters going about their daily routines at school, at work, in the garden and at the dinner table. He focuses in on some details and lets others go right on by (I loved the DDT truck spraying gas all over the kids as they play in the street). Again, Lubeski’s camerawork is key here because he keeps the camera on the ground level, following the characters around as they explore their world. By making the environment complete, Malick creates the sense that we’ve just picked one ordinary family and we’re following along with them as they go about their lives.
I know that I need to see The Tree of Life again before I can get a better grasp on it, and I’ll certainly need to see it many more times to fully understand it (maybe I never will). But even though I don’t understand all of the themes, it’s an extraordinary piece of cinema by one of our greatest living filmmakers. One of the most exciting times for film lovers is when they can analyze a new movie from a great master. We may not have new films by Kurosawa, Hitchcock, Fellini, Bergman and many of the other legendary auteurs, but we do have a new Terence Malick. The Tree of Life is a cinematic gift. Let’s unwrap it and see what we can find.
