“The internet’s nailed it again!” I thought, navigating between sparse clusters of exiting couples and parties giggling carefully among themselves as if conscious that somebody authoritative might be watching. Sure enough, Terrence Malick’s latest was remarkably reminiscent of Andrei Tarkovsky’s The Mirror, just as I’d been assured. The motif of adulthood reminisce was sharp and present, the chronology was mixed and elusive, and—common to Tarkovsky if not so much to Malick until right that evening—the whole thing retained the subtly narcoleptic quality of attending high Mass, enough so that I now pray for a wide theatrical re-release featuring Spy Kids-style 4D scratch ’n sniff incense.
Indeed, premature as it may be, and without, as usual, the benefit of direct statements from its writer/director, I’m sorely tempted to declare The Tree of Life an attempt at creating an unabashedly religious, Christian film that seeks,...
Indeed, premature as it may be, and without, as usual, the benefit of direct statements from its writer/director, I’m sorely tempted to declare The Tree of Life an attempt at creating an unabashedly religious, Christian film that seeks,...
- 10/11/2011
- MUBI
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