Malick's twirling horndog period climaxes with an exasperating whimper (you know it's trouble when *i'm* restless during a movie that stars Rooney Mara and Cate Blanchett), but this still might be my favorite of the post-TREE OF LIFE adventures, if only because the film's freeform approach can be a nice complement for its portrait of drifting youth.

but like… does Malick have a tin ear for modern music, or was he just forced to work with whomever he found hanging around Austin at the time? a little bit of both? Patti Smith aside (and i'll spare a thought for Lykke Li), the music in this movie is... just fucking wretched.

also, it's frustrating to think of all the incredible footage…

There are a small handful of filmmakers I would describe as Joycean. Terence Davies, despite never shooting in Ireland, captures the physical reality of Joyce's books: the creaking interiors, the spiritual weight of real and emotional death, the way that alcoholism and rage is both the manifestation and perpetuator of lower-class misery. David Lynch reflects the author's pathologized sexuality, the warped, half-glimpsed chimera of lust and repression that distorts perspectives into horrorshow abandon. (In more ways that one, Lost Highway resembles Finnegans Wake converted to film noir, replacing that book's transcendent motion with more base impulses of murder.) Add to that list Terrence Malick, who (since The New World, at least) has tackled the more probing, elemental, associative side of…

Malick's post-TTOL deconstructionist narrative trilogy has very little do to with the notion of traditional "character" or "character development" and more to do with utilizing human bodies as avatars to convey psychological complexities of the collective unconscious, not so much representative of individual people as representative of models embodying a slice of the autobiographical pie. His method is fundamentally opposite to how we're meant, or how we've been taught, to perceive "character" or the presence of bodies & minds on screen; rather than observing the whole of an individual, a complete picture of a person, and re-tracing our steps to uncover the smaller, more intimate psychological details of the individual's inner clockwork (the popular "character approach"), we're instead presented with those…

84

The work of Terrence Malick comforts me to no end, yet I do not find grand revelations in his poems of bacchanalia, of tenderness, of jealousy, of natural serenity. Or at least not how I used to. Such a proclamation suggests that the elusive master once brought me closure or knowledge or wisdom, but in hindsight, it was the effect of such sensations rather than the essence of them. He's more of a Bresson than a Tarkovsky; craft instilled into impression after impression, evoking the aftershock instead of the earthquake (although, in the rambling Knight of Cups, a tremor begins a tapestry composed of repercussions). And just as I feel that I finally understand Malick as an artist, although…

Discussions about Malick's filmography often focus on his "early" versus his "late" period, which at first glance seem easy enough to define (pre- and post-hiatus, Badlands and Days of Heaven on one side, and everything else on the other). Oddly enough, critiques of Malick's "late period" focus largely on three of his films - Knight of Cups, To the Wonder, and Song to Song, typically omitting The Thin Red Line and The Tree of Life. The result is that while something like Days of Heaven can exist largely outside of the mythos of the filmmaker, the discussion around the last few Malick films is grounded entirely within the context of entire filmography (it is indeed alluring to trace a lineage…

100/100(was a 98/100)

There's a scene in here where Rooney Mara reaches over in the car to grab Ryan Gosling's hand. When she grabs it, she doesn't hold it, she plays with it, she explores the way it feels, all the callouses and imperfections, all the scars and ridges and bumps. She feels every inch of it because she's holding on to the person she loves while she can. She knows it's going to end, so she holds on to who she loves. I know that. When it was good, that's what she did. She held on to me, and she felt me like I was something that was real and someone that mattered. I'm glad it's over, but I'm…

(Keep in mind I'm writing this as my melatonin kicks in) This had many of the strengths and flaws of a Hidden Life, which is frustrating. Terrence Malick has such an eye for and understanding of nostalgia, beauty, and those pure moments of bliss that make life worth living. However, that on its own is not enough to make a good movie.

Tree of Life worked so well because it was exactly suited to Malick's style, it was the only way that story could be told. But he uses that same gorgeous lens for this and after the first hour, you find yourself bored.

If he made these films shorter, I think they would be more engaging and satisfying. At…

This film captures the feeling of love better than anything else I've seen. It knows what it's like to find someone new. It knows how it feels to share your life with someone. It knows what it means to have another person occupy the entirety of your thoughts. It knows what it feels like to slowly drift away from that person. It knows what it feels like to have that person remain in your thoughts long after they're supposed to be out of your life. It knows what it feels like to think that you're incapable of making someone else happy. It knows what it means to grow out of that place. It knows what it means to be in…