Tree of Life (2011)

Tree of Life is, to my mind, a film to be experienced, rather than simply watched.  I had no idea what to expect, having characteristically avoided reviews, and critics' comments.  It is, I think, a film for all.  I would challenge anyone to come out from a screening to lack a response...  My own felt to come from my heart rather than my head, as the film is an epic journey through unfamiliar territory. 

Bits of it were reminiscent of the best David Attenborough documentaries, the ecological cinematography is quite literally, out of this world.  Other parts were captivating, inviting engagement, and demanding consideration. 

I felt tired leaving the cinema, and not because it had been a late showing, but rather because I felt my mind, body and senses had all been taken on an unforeseen journey quite unlike anything I've experienced before. 

The performances are deep, and yet the human presence somehow minimal.  This film has perspective, and highlighted our profound insignificance upon the planet, and our relative minuscule presence and longevity alongside the elements. 

Throughout the film I was acutely aware of the powerful and symbolic use made of light.  Tree of Life is already one of my 2011 cinematic highlights; and one which will not be quickly forgotten or overtaken.  Unusually, I have, despite my efforts, found it hard to either summarise, or even describe.  It is one to be experienced, for yourself. 

Terrence Malick's latest release has received mixed press since it was reviewed at Cannes in May.  I can appreciate that it won't appeal to everyone, and yet there seems to be something for everybody within its scenes.  Perhaps most controversial are the references to Christianity, and yet I found these subtle, and strictly optional, featuring as a background to far stronger visual experiences and invitations. 

"The only way to be happy is to love.  Unless you love, your life will flash by."

I can't argue, it is a long film, yet (in spite of the Odeon's frankly inhospitably hyperactive air conditioning) I was drawn in to it, in a way that caused me to feel transported beyond the realms of time.

It is, I think, rather better described as metaphysical than Christian.  There is certainly nothing remotely evangelical within it, and I interpreted the message as rather more widely existential - that, in our efforts, to comprehend, and work through in order to come to terms with our apparent insignificance whilst in existence, we tend to look towards structure, such as that offered by the Church.    What Malick draws our attention to, however, is how insufficient a container this faith can offer, given our boundless confusion and resultant chaos. 

"Are You watching me? 

I want to know what You are. 

I want to see what You see."

There is something magnificent about this movie - which has been brilliantly shot by Emmanuel Lubezki, and which is, not only majestically ambitious but passionately felt, and deeply serious in its address to the audience.  As we witness a tormented man facing what might be described as a 'mid life crisis' (Sean Penn) we are brought to understand with impressive intimacy, his inner turmoil and colossal fear as he acknowledges his own negligible place in the universe. 

"There are two ways through life:  the way of nature, and the way of Grace. 

You have to choose which one you'll follow."

As he recalls growing up in the Midwest in the 1950s, we are introduced to the early origins of his disturbance with hints of possible parental abuse, at the hands of his frightening father (Brad Pitt) himself a deeply unhappy man, who abandoned his own artistic passion as a talented musician to try and build a career as a businessman.  The boys' mother (Jessica Chastain) is portrayed as a gentle soul, who tries to encourage her sons to follow the way of divine grace, rather than be content to thrive as natural beings.  She is ferociously opposed in this, by her tyrannical husband, who insists that his sons need only be strong.  The family is wounded when one of their sons dies, in military service, at the age of 19, and it looks uncertain whether they have the resources to heal and time does not seem to aid this process, only aggravate the suffering. 

"Father, Mother.  Always you wrestle inside me.  Always you will."

It is uncomfortable viewing at times, particularly as Pitt's model of parenting seems to cause an absurd confusion between love and fear, with his sons struggling to recognise the difference, less still feel it.  I can't pretend to comprehend all of the scenes my eyes were offered, yet I appreciated the package.