In nearly forty years working as a director, Terrence Malick has released only five films — Badlands, Days of Heaven, The Thin Red Line, The New World, and The Tree of Life — and each one has polarized audiences with their contemplative pacing, tangential narration, and often unconventional editing.
Go read some online discussions about Malick’s work and you will see debates with little gray area. Insults fly in all directions. Malick’s detractors call his supporters pretentious, whereas his supporters call the detractors obtuse and shallow, or worse, lazy moviegoers. The fact is, Malick’s films are difficult. They explore deep issues and not in a linear fashion. Malick never holds the audience’s hand. During The Tree of Life’s theatrical run last summer, one theater printed a disclaimer for potential viewers, telling them to read up on the film before purchasing a ticket because no refunds would be given. It is funny to think the theater management would have to warn people about a, “uniquely visionary and deeply philosophical film.” It is as if the theater was telling customers, “If you don’t want to think, avoid this movie.” (The last time I remember a disclaimer for a movie was for The Blair Witch Project, and not for being philosophical, but for the motion sickness some viewers experienced.)
I write all this to say I do not think many of Malick’s detractors are insipid or dense. Granted, there are some who would likely be more at home with a Transformers movie, but I do not think many fans of that series are watching Malick’s pictures. Most of my friends who do not like Malick’s work have no problems with challenging, serious, and ambiguous films. When watching Malick’s work, they could praise the beauty of the cinematography, they could sense that they are about something, but what that something was remained frustratingly out of reach. They simply find Malick’s movies to be too wandering, even impenetrable.
This post then is my attempt to offer a primer on how to understand Malick’s films to people who are curious about them or who were turned off and want to give his works another shot. I make no claims to being a Malick expert — I simply like his films and after each one have felt enriched.
Structure and Pacing. Every subsequent film of Malick’s has become less linear and more contemplative. There are long periods in which little seems to happen. This is not to say his films have no direction, but that the pace is deliberate, and the films are not so much about what happens, but about how what happens reveals the larger themes and questions to be explored. Do not expect tight three-act plots. In fact, do not worry much about plot altogether.
Voice-Over Narration. This is perhaps the most distinct aspect of Malick’s movies. Every film of his uses narration, but just as Malick ditched linear plots over time, he has also eschewed traditional voice-overs. Badlands had only one character narrating and the voice-overs usually filled out the story. Days of Heaven also had only one narrator, but her voice-overs were more personal reflections than service to the plot. By The Thin Red Line and the later films, several characters speak, asking contemplative questions, ruminating on universal problems, or praying to an unnamed, “You.” In movies, narration can often be a crutch to move the plot forward. Malick uses narration to reveal the deeper, philosophical, spiritual, and existential matters with which his characters wrestle.
Beauty and Nature. One thing most people — even the detractors — can agree on, is that Malick has one of the best eyes in the business. His films are almost painfully beautiful. Malick’s movies give a lot of images to the audience that often seem irrelevant to the film. In my opinion, not a single shot is wasted in his movies. The images of sunflowers or birds may not relate directly to the plot, but they are filling out some of the grander themes in the films. In The Thin Red Line we will see a soldier dying and then a bird flying across the sky, but the connection is never explained and at first glance seems disjointed. The bird could mean several things — it could be the last thing the soldier sees, it could be his spirit leaving his body, it could be nature’s indifference to his death, or it could be a reminder that the soldier is just as much a part of nature and the war within nature as the bird is.
Openings. Malick will not hold your hand as you watch his films. They will challenge you. They require that audiences put in some work. But I do not think his films are impenetrable. In fact, I would argue that in most of his films, especially his three most recent works, he offers the audience a sense of what themes he will explore right at the beginning. The Thin Red Line opens with a voice-over of one of the nameless soldiers, asking, “What’s this war in the heart of nature? Why does nature vie with itself? The land contend with the sea? Is there an avenging power in nature? Not one power, but two?” The rest of the film shows that the war humans wage is not separate from the natural world, but an extension of it. It wonders if there is any hope for us to live differently. Is war as much a part of our world as the oceans? The New World begins with Pocahontas praying, “Come, spirit. Help us sing the story of our land. You are our mother — we, your field of corn. We rise from out of the soul of you.” What follows is a story of the land and how two cultures meeting and colliding changed that land forever. Finally, The Tree of Life opens with a quotation from the book of Job 38.4,7, “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation…while the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy?” The film then explores many of the same questions that Job asks. Why is there evil and death? Where is God as the way of nature seems so violent? It also offers some of the same answers as Job, namely that we are finite beings who do not possess the expansive view to comprehend God’s plans.
How then should one watch? Here I will to sound like I am talking out of both sides of my mouth. On the one hand, Malick’s films are best viewed by letting the experience wash over you like a wave rather than trying to remain objectively outside the movie. On the other hand, the viewer cannot remain totally passive. These movies require the audience to work in three ways. First, the films call the audience to wonder what the films are saying. Second, the movies bring the audience to ask the same questions the characters ponder and come up with their own answers. Third, the films demand the audience reflect on their own lives and how they intersect with the story onscreen. If most films are like novels, then Malick’s films are more like poems. Bad poems either telegraph their meaning to readers, or are so obscure that no one other than the poet can relate. Good poems require readers to pay attention to the words and their sounds and to notice how the poet changes their meaning. A poet may use a word because it feels right, not because it is the clearest form of communication. Some of the best poems cannot be fully understood on the first reading, but demand that the reader sit with it, let the poem sink into his or her mind, and to bring her or his life into the stanzas as well. Malick’s films resemble poetry in many of these ways.
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A Terrence Malick Viewing Primer
In nearly forty years working as a director, Terrence Malick has released only five films — Badlands, Days of Heaven, The Thin Red Line, The New World, and The Tree of Life — and each one has polarized audiences with their contemplative pacing, tangential narration, and often unconventional editing.
Go read some online discussions about Malick’s work and you will see debates with little gray area. Insults fly in all directions. Malick’s detractors call his supporters pretentious, whereas his supporters call the detractors obtuse and shallow, or worse, lazy moviegoers. The fact is, Malick’s films are difficult. They explore deep issues and not in a linear fashion. Malick never holds the audience’s hand. During The Tree of Life’s theatrical run last summer, one theater printed a disclaimer for potential viewers, telling them to read up on the film before purchasing a ticket because no refunds would be given. It is funny to think the theater management would have to warn people about a, “uniquely visionary and deeply philosophical film.” It is as if the theater was telling customers, “If you don’t want to think, avoid this movie.” (The last time I remember a disclaimer for a movie was for The Blair Witch Project, and not for being philosophical, but for the motion sickness some viewers experienced.)
I write all this to say I do not think many of Malick’s detractors are insipid or dense. Granted, there are some who would likely be more at home with a Transformers movie, but I do not think many fans of that series are watching Malick’s pictures. Most of my friends who do not like Malick’s work have no problems with challenging, serious, and ambiguous films. When watching Malick’s work, they could praise the beauty of the cinematography, they could sense that they are about something, but what that something was remained frustratingly out of reach. They simply find Malick’s movies to be too wandering, even impenetrable.
This post then is my attempt to offer a primer on how to understand Malick’s films to people who are curious about them or who were turned off and want to give his works another shot. I make no claims to being a Malick expert — I simply like his films and after each one have felt enriched.
Structure and Pacing. Every subsequent film of Malick’s has become less linear and more contemplative. There are long periods in which little seems to happen. This is not to say his films have no direction, but that the pace is deliberate, and the films are not so much about what happens, but about how what happens reveals the larger themes and questions to be explored. Do not expect tight three-act plots. In fact, do not worry much about plot altogether.
Voice-Over Narration. This is perhaps the most distinct aspect of Malick’s movies. Every film of his uses narration, but just as Malick ditched linear plots over time, he has also eschewed traditional voice-overs. Badlands had only one character narrating and the voice-overs usually filled out the story. Days of Heaven also had only one narrator, but her voice-overs were more personal reflections than service to the plot. By The Thin Red Line and the later films, several characters speak, asking contemplative questions, ruminating on universal problems, or praying to an unnamed, “You.” In movies, narration can often be a crutch to move the plot forward. Malick uses narration to reveal the deeper, philosophical, spiritual, and existential matters with which his characters wrestle.
Beauty and Nature. One thing most people — even the detractors — can agree on, is that Malick has one of the best eyes in the business. His films are almost painfully beautiful. Malick’s movies give a lot of images to the audience that often seem irrelevant to the film. In my opinion, not a single shot is wasted in his movies. The images of sunflowers or birds may not relate directly to the plot, but they are filling out some of the grander themes in the films. In The Thin Red Line we will see a soldier dying and then a bird flying across the sky, but the connection is never explained and at first glance seems disjointed. The bird could mean several things — it could be the last thing the soldier sees, it could be his spirit leaving his body, it could be nature’s indifference to his death, or it could be a reminder that the soldier is just as much a part of nature and the war within nature as the bird is.
Openings. Malick will not hold your hand as you watch his films. They will challenge you. They require that audiences put in some work. But I do not think his films are impenetrable. In fact, I would argue that in most of his films, especially his three most recent works, he offers the audience a sense of what themes he will explore right at the beginning. The Thin Red Line opens with a voice-over of one of the nameless soldiers, asking, “What’s this war in the heart of nature? Why does nature vie with itself? The land contend with the sea? Is there an avenging power in nature? Not one power, but two?” The rest of the film shows that the war humans wage is not separate from the natural world, but an extension of it. It wonders if there is any hope for us to live differently. Is war as much a part of our world as the oceans? The New World begins with Pocahontas praying, “Come, spirit. Help us sing the story of our land. You are our mother — we, your field of corn. We rise from out of the soul of you.” What follows is a story of the land and how two cultures meeting and colliding changed that land forever. Finally, The Tree of Life opens with a quotation from the book of Job 38.4,7, “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation…while the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy?” The film then explores many of the same questions that Job asks. Why is there evil and death? Where is God as the way of nature seems so violent? It also offers some of the same answers as Job, namely that we are finite beings who do not possess the expansive view to comprehend God’s plans.
How then should one watch? Here I will to sound like I am talking out of both sides of my mouth. On the one hand, Malick’s films are best viewed by letting the experience wash over you like a wave rather than trying to remain objectively outside the movie. On the other hand, the viewer cannot remain totally passive. These movies require the audience to work in three ways. First, the films call the audience to wonder what the films are saying. Second, the movies bring the audience to ask the same questions the characters ponder and come up with their own answers. Third, the films demand the audience reflect on their own lives and how they intersect with the story onscreen. If most films are like novels, then Malick’s films are more like poems. Bad poems either telegraph their meaning to readers, or are so obscure that no one other than the poet can relate. Good poems require readers to pay attention to the words and their sounds and to notice how the poet changes their meaning. A poet may use a word because it feels right, not because it is the clearest form of communication. Some of the best poems cannot be fully understood on the first reading, but demand that the reader sit with it, let the poem sink into his or her mind, and to bring her or his life into the stanzas as well. Malick’s films resemble poetry in many of these ways.
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Filed under Commentary, Film
Tagged as Badlands, Days of Heaven, Terrence Malick, The New World, The Thin Red Line, The Tree of Life