Friday, April 24, 2015

Extended ToL

   No less complicated, but much more interesting, Tree of Life has taken on a whole new meaning after our in class analyses. Going deeper than any of us ever expected, all of the questions I had have been answered (for the most part) from the initial viewing of the film. But that has laid the groundwork for new questions to spring up. For example, my very first question about the film was about the dialogue, or lack thereof. I think the point Malick was trying to make with very little dialogue was that it's not about the things spoken. The movie was about what was going on internally with our main characters. The few sections of spoken word were very strategically used in the movie, and were never single-layered in meaning. And now I find myself over analyzing every word spoken in the movie. Now it makes me ask the question as to why only three (four including the priest from today) got dialogue? There were a lot of important characters, like the little brother that dies, that never spoke a word.
    I still don't know why the creation sequence had to be so long, but I understand the importance of it now. That sequence took us through everything about the world we live in. Much like in Beasts of the Southern Wild, it brings to light how small we actually are in the history of the world, and how everything had to have been created to get us where we are today. But it still boggles my mind as to why this sequence shows the evolution of the world, which goes against the very foundations of Catholicism, and seemingly the film itself. According to the first book of the Bible, god created the people and the animals to keep us company. The song playing in the background, Lacrimosa composed by Zbigniew Preisner, and Lacrimosa was a title given to Mary (the mother of Jesus). HOW CAN A SEQUENCE IN A RELIGIOUS FILM SHOW EVOLUTION WITH A SONG DEDICATED TO THE MOTHER OF JESUS? If the actual Tree of Life was in the Garden of Eden with Adam and Eve, and it could have even been in this sequence, where were Adam and Eve in the sequence? This continues to fuel me on my search to determine if this movie is about the goodness of God and the ways of grace, or a PSA about the dangers of blindly devoting yourself to a god who doesn't help you.
   As we talked about in class today, the final scene still perplexes me to no end. Why is everybody young, or still alive in the Dad's case, in a place that to me represented the land for eternal souls? In the beginning of the movie when old Jack is following young Jack through the desert, does that mean that he had to find who he had been as a child to make it to where his soul can rest with his family? Why, then, are we never distinctly told if Jack is alive or dead? I believe that he is alive at the beginning of the movie (unlike in Beasts), but when did he die? How? Was it suicide from the heights of the tall buildings we keep seeing that surround Jack? I think that if my questions about Jack's death(if that's what happened) were answered in a more concrete way, then I could maybe say that I like the movie completely. I'm not quite there yet though. To say that I loved the movie is a stretch, but so is saying I disliked it. I think it's just more of a complex movie than I'm used to, and that is taking a while for me to get over. It has definitely thrown me into a maelstrom of questions with extremely vague answers and biblical research that is rarely ever fruitful.
   But in terms of style, I think the film gets its point across very well, whatever that point may be. Full of close ups and almost awkwardly lit rooms, the film is ethereal in feel. It's like I can almost touch it but its intangible. A lot of shots we view in class everyday consist of areas or rooms alit by the sun in ways that are so natural it's like the light of God is shining directly onto the screen. The natural light, in conjunction with the seemingly natural breezes, the film altogether has a very earthy feel that makes it a more humble watch for us viewers. A movie that throws into question everything about love, life and religion has to be humbly shot, or else watching it would be too traumatic of an experience for everyone.Also, each shot seems like it almost always tries to include those earthly features. Not to say it goes out of the way to get nature in each shot, because it does feel right and natural, but it is a consistent string of images that spans the entire movie.

Thursday, April 23, 2015

Ebert's Review of ToL

    One word repeats itself multiple times throughout the entirety of Rodger Ebert's review of Tree of Life: open. Open windows, open doors, open to emotions - that's more times than can be considered coincidence. An educated and well-practiced writer would know that carelessly repeating the same word throughout any writing is tacky, and Ebert is no different. Open is exactly what you have to be in order to fully appreciate and understand Malick's vision. You have to be prepared for the fact that your entire existence is about to be thrown through a hurricane and what's left standing on the other side is going to be bare and unstable at best. Our generation is significantly less religious than those of Ebert's generation, so for most of us, the film never fully hit home because right at the beginning of the film is a quote from the bible, throwing off those of us that aren't spiritually inclined. It takes a true filmgoer to get passed the quote and the exceptionally long creation of the universe sequence, to find the subtext of the film, which I think Ebert brought to light in his own subtle way.
    He points out the fact that no one in this film has names, except for Jack, and that is by no means a dazzling name. Generic and unimpressive, the O' Brien family is nothing but ordinary for 1950's Texas, as Ebert points out. This was a deliberate move on Malick's part because ordinary people with no names attached to their faces have an uncanny ability of reflecting parts of our souls back to us. Ebert even said that seeing the film brought him back to growing up in the "American Midlands, where life flows in and out through open windows." A clever line here by Ebert. In the beginning of the movie, just before we see Mrs. O' Brien floating in front of a tree (the Tree of Life?), we see Sean Penn sort of feeling his way outside. It looks almost like he is feeling the breeze on him, through his hands. And then we see his mother, a young woman, floating in mid air. It almost is like life floats on the breeze, and that he feels his mothers love in that life that he had as a little boy. Arguments can be made for the other elements as well: fire for remembrance and the sun; water is pure, its where we begin and gives us life; earth is everything God made for us. When God asked Job "Where were you when I laid the earths foundations?" this was Jack O' Brien's answer. He wasn't there when God made everything, so all the things he went through were meant to test his love. His mother says at the end that "the only way to be happy is to love. The less you love, your life will flash before your eyes." This is where Jack realizes that his life did flash before his eyes because he failed to love his living family, failed to unflinchingly live in the ways of Nature and in God's grace.

Thursday, April 16, 2015

Splat Review

   "Sometimes a film’s beauty can be encapsulated into a scene, or a few shots.   Malik’s vision and deeply powerful imagery outlives its welcome after 20 minutes, leaving a film that meanders along trying to impress with concepts and ideas . . .but to the occasional movie goer it misses much, much more than it hits." Rhett Bartlett of Dial M for Movies gave Malick's Tree of Life just one star. Based on his review, I don't think that one star is fair to the movie, as well as to Malick as a director. I'll grant to Bartlett that the nearly two and half hour spectacle that is Tree of Life was a little hard to watch, but to call the film pointless should be an insult to all humans. A central motif to the movie is soul searching and inner thoughts, something that every single person on the planet can relate to. We all deal with struggling to find who we are, what our purpose is, and a fair portion of us struggle with our religious faith. To call those struggles "sow paced" as Bartlett does, is saying that every human life is as well. And props have to be given to Malick for visually encompassing (because there is very little dialogue) every difficulty relevant to the movie going population: growing up, the loss of innocence, parenting struggles, faith, and even death (suicide?). If you had to make a movie, how would you visually depict nature and grace as evidently and seamlessly as Malick did?
   At first blush, the movie can seem like a scrambled 'hot mess' with several different plot points that are barely ever closed, shown to us through a series of "abstract images, powerful and deliberately deep scenes on the creation of the universe." But that's what life is, isn't it? Crazy abstract things that throw us through loops, and us constantly asking ourselves what the point of said craziness is. Life never has a "coherent plot," and as we get older we constantly find ourselves thinking over the past or thinking about what might happen. In that sense, life isn't linear either, just like this film. Most of the plot points that "don't give as much as they should," can be figured out once put into the context of the movie as whole, along with little forgotten pieces of the film that slip from our mind in the viewing of it. Trying to summarize the film is a sentence or two has lead me to this summary: Jack is a 50 something man in a world that progressed far beyond what he ever imagined during his simple life in 1950's Texas. He lost himself and his family when his younger brother died when he was 19, now Jack struggles as he tries to find who he was as a child.
    Tree of Life is a visual representation of the human condition at its most elemental and fundamental level. Rhett Bartlett clearly never thought to think of this film as anything but the movies that have dominated modern cinema. This movie was not for entertainment, although it was for anyone who isn't opposed to a little bit of intelligent thought. This movie was supposed to make you think about what makes you you, and to search for your essence. I give Bartlett's review two stars, and that's being generous. He addresses things that are probably very common gripes about the movie, and how people walked out of the movie in the first half hour. But he fails to acknowledge how the movie "teaches you how to watch itself," to quote from a classmate. He doesn't point out that after just a little bit of analysis, the movie makes so much sense that it becomes undeniably straightforward and relatable.
   

Thursday, April 9, 2015

Lumia

      "Why would Malick go to such trouble to include the Lumia in his film?"  The Lumia originated in the early 18th century when Thomas Wilfred began to explore light as an art form. Before him, "color organs" had been used for colorful art, but he was the one to coin the term Lumia and renamed the color organ the "Clavilux." The Clavilux works like this: inside a closed cabinet is a series of mirrors, warped metals, and painted glass disks. Inserted strategically in the box are beams that create the pattern of light we see. Wilfred said his objective had been to represent "the universal rhythmic flow" in his works, and had refused the filming of his masterpieces because of poor quality products. Up until Malick's crew asked permission to record Wilfred's 'Opus 161,' no Lumia had ever been properly captured. So we can see where Malick faced his challenge. Now the question is why? 
     In one review in the New York Times, the reviewer said that the Lumia can "only represent the creator." In another review for Variety Magazine, the author called it a "yolk colored blob." There has to be a happy medium, right? It can't just mean God, or nothing. I think Malick chose the sequences from 'Opus 161' very carefully. He chose to use only the parts that contained only orange and blue, like we would see if we watched a candle burn. It can be argued that the central idea of Tree of Life  is remembrance of lost loved one, and what's a more generic way to memorialize someone than with a candle? We light candles when we need light to see, when we pray, and when we hold vigil. All three of these can be tied back to the movie in literal and figurative ways. Whenever we see the Lumia in Tree of Life, we hear a whispered voice over from someone in the cast, and most of the time its to hear them ask "where were you?" in tough times. When they pray to ask God questions, maybe they are figuratively asking for guidance, or 'light.' And in the beginning, we see an older Jack light a candle on what is perhaps the anniversary of his brothers death. But was it necessary to the movie?
     Without the Lumia in the movie, there would be no visual to go along with the inner monologues of the cast. There would just be faceless whispers over scenes of a typical family in 1950's Texas. And maybe it's a stretch but maybe the Lumia doesn't just represent a guiding candle. Maybe it does sort of represent the mysterious light we associate with god-like figures. But it could also represent the fire that burns within all humans. We all have a fire for life, with deep inner feelings that we sometimes prefer to keep to ourselves. There are endless meanings we can associate with fire, and light, and I kind of think that was Malick's intention. Everybody interprets things differently based on their personality, and also the state of mind we are in when we watch a movie or read a book, so Malick wanted to use a visual that was so completely subjective to the viewer that there was never just one right answer.

Sunday, April 5, 2015

Tree of Life

     Terence Malick's Tree of Life is a masterpiece that has been fifty years in the making. In the sheer complexity of the movie, it is easy to see why. A movie about existence in its purist form, Tree of Life follows one family in their struggles of life and faith. We get no names, barely any dialogue and a confusing timeline for those with little analyzing skills. In this movie we follow the story of Jack, the oldest son of three, as he grows up and loses himself in a world that becomes too much for him. The film starts in the middle of his life, when he loses his 19 year old brother, then goes to him as a middle aged man working a world that has left him behind. But, the movie takes place with him as a little boy, growing up with his brothers and facing the ordinary struggles of an adolescent boy. The boys feel conflicted with polar opposite parents who show their love for each of them in different ways. We don't see much about the youngest son throughout the movie, just the 'battle' for affection between the older, harsher son who takes after the father and the sensitive, middle son that takes after the mother. When the boys witness the drowning of their friend, an aspect of innocence is lost that begins Jack's struggle with faith.
    Much like I did with Hugo, I tried to describe the movie in one word. With this film however, that became much more difficult. In a simple movie about the goodness of faith, with a creepy young kid as the main character, how do you describe it to other people, let alone yourself? To me, the movie was obscure and intricate, but simple and straightforward all at the same time. So I guess it could be summed up as an oxymoron. Like 'jumbo shrimp,' Tree of Life was a simple conundrum. At the time I first saw it, I was so confused and so angry at the movie for being so enigmatic that I couldn't see the big picture where everything tied together. All but a few things make sense now that I have turned it over in my mind, and have rewatched the opening 40 minutes.  As I said, it's a movie about existing in a place that visually took 20 minutes to create at the beginning of the film. Faith and religion are a way to not feel in a place that is unfathomably big. But without reassurance that there is some one there for us, times of hardship can almost seem unfair to those who devote their lives to upholding that faith. In the Book of Job of the Old Testament, Job asks God why he had given him all this success and was now taking it away. In reply, God asks where Job was when he created the universe Job lives in. Similar to the movie where the characters ask the same thing of God when he takes a life.
    As a filmgoer before this class, I was like every other average person in the country that just watched them for entertainment. But after watching more difficult movies in this class, I find myself wanting to over-analyze every little detail and stretch it to the farthest points of the imagination. Especially with a movie as ambiguous as this one, I feel my brain searching for connections that may or may not even be there. This film, at least in my mind, goes above and beyond any movies that we have analyzed so far in class. It broke all molds of most movies in my head when it came to dialogue, how God would be portrayed, and timelines.

PS I have one more question that I didn't even think about until I watched the opening again. Who was the woman? She covered the middle son in a curtain at the beginning, and was then embracing the mother at the end, but she wasn't in the movie at all. Was she God? Was she Death? Just a random person meant to represent eternity?

Questions on Tree of Life

        After watching a movie as complex and difficult as Tree of Life, I think we can all agree that we have some questions we would like answers to. Mine come from all different parts of the movie, but I'll start with the ones that came first. The first thing that came to my attention was why is there no dialogue? Basically the only talking there is is a bunch of whispered voiceovers of our three main characters. I don't know if it alters my rating of the movie or not, but it is just something that I am not used to. My second question is about the fifteen minute graphic sequence about the creation of the universe. I understood the sequence was a visual representation of Gods seven day creation, but why did it have to be so long? Also I could have sworn I saw some bits of evolutionary ideas in the images, which leads to my next question: was this movie meant to be religious and show that faith is the only way to save your soul, or was it a movie that represented the dangers of blind faith and that your happiness depends on yourself? There is evidence to support both, in my opinion. My fourth question is about the ending, where all the people of the past are in the ocean. I understand that it represents souls finding each other in eternity, but why was everyone the way they were when Jack was a child? Nobody had aged, but they all lived on after Jack wasn't a child. My last question is about the little flickers of light that sometimes appear in the movie. They look like obscure candle flames that appear when a narrator whispers something important, but WHAT DO THEY MEAN? They drove me crazy the whole movie because I didn't understand their significance.

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Scene Analysis

    Women have an interesting role in the movie Beasts of the Southern Wild. The title itself has its own subtle insinuations towards the masculine beasts that rule the Bathtub. In several different scenes, by several different people, we get an insight into how women are viewed in the ill-fated world of Hushpuppy. First off, besides children, the only women in this movie are either a teacher (a rather feminine occupation) who believes the end of the world is coming or are fully absorbed in the "beast" life and drink rowdily with the men. There are no maternal, overly loving women present in the movie, save for one scene towards the very end. Throughout the movie, we see an overwhelming need in Hushpuppy to prove to her father that she is the man. She continually shows him typical boy behavior, to prove that she has what it takes to survive in beast mode and rule the Bathtub with him and his affections. Assuming that the other children have mothers, or did at one point, these women didn't do a good job in providing for a child's need to feel nurtured. As the children swim away from the Bathtub in an effort to find Hushpuppy's mom, it's an attempt to feel useful and maybe even a little bit feminine by taking care of the family.
    All her life, Hushpuppy has heard stories of her mom as being so beautiful and full of love, that she has this idea in her head of what all women are like: kind, gentle, supportive. But when she meets this woman we are not assured is her mother, she breaks all the ideals Hushpuppy holds. She tells her how it is, and how life isn't always happy and easy, and that it's easiest just to take care of yourself. Even if this woman isn't her mother, it does cover one thing: that women feel a natural protection over children and want to make them feel loved. As Hushpuppy and this woman dance, it highlights the bond between women and children that encourage them to do well by others, in this case, help her father. The song playing in the background as they dance keeps repeating "if that's not love, it'll have to do." Which I interpret to mean even if you don't know someone, or don't know how to help them, you have to give it the best you can to make them feel loved.
     Now I'm still not convinced that the movie would have progressed any differently had Hushpuppy had a decent mother. The Bathtub is an environment where the weak don't survive, like in the scene with Aurochs where eat their own dead, and it would destroy anyone that felt an overwhelming need to protect someone else. It's a fend for yourself type of place, as Hushpuppy showed us in the scene where she is cooking cat food with a blowtorch, and a mothers love could be seen as a hindrance to the mother, and the child, if they ended up weak. Maybe it would have made Hushpuppy incapable of living in the Bathtub, and she would have left, but that could have happened without the mom. She could have seen that her mother could not have survived in a place so harsh and unrelenting. But the dedication she feels to her father and his dying wish compelled her to stay and be strong.