Re-Thinking ‘The Tree of Life’
In 1992 my wife and I went out to a movie, our first since the birth of our first child Aurora. We were nervous about leaving the baby with a sitter, but knew that this had to happen at some point, so we took the plunge. Sherri had always gone to the movies with me, press screenings excepted of course, and I missed having her along with me. The film was Unforgiven (1992) and two hours later we emerged from the film looking at each other as though we had eaten something bad. Neither of us liked the film very much, and voiced this to each other all the way home. But then for the next week, I could not stop thinking about the movie, the little moments, the performances, the many layers of the deceptively simplistic screenplay that contained enormous depth. Eastwood’s superb performance, Hackman’s terrifying Little Bill, all weighed on my mind. Oddly enough, Sherri had also been thinking about the film so we decided to go and give it another try.
This time we emerged from the theatre knowing we had seen one of the greatest films of all time. Perhaps it was the thought of our new baby at home in the hands of another that impacted our first viewing of the picture, perhaps we needed a different type of film for that first night out, but whatever had happened, the second time the movie hit us as it should have the first time.
It happens. Life gets in the way, the mood is wrong, perhaps the film started late and ticked you off, there can be reasons for disliking a film beyond the film itself. Critics see a film and love it but by the end of the year begin to feel very differently about the film they had seen. God I remember seeing Gandhi (1982) for the first time and thinking it was a pretty decent film, but certainly not worth eight Academy Awards. Ironically those same Academy voters had egg on their face a year after honoring the film, because the picture had not aged well, one year out and now looked like, at best, an old fashioned movie. Earlier in my life, 1977, my brothers and I had gone to see Islands in the Stream (1977) and adored the movie and the performance of George C. Scott, but a few years later we all three managed ot watch the film together with our families on DVD and it did not hold up at all. Critics have been known to change their mind on films, famously in some cases. God, so many did an about face on Bonnie and Clyde (1967) once Pauline Kael had embraced the film, it was crazy reading re-writes of their reviews now praising a film that just a few months earlier they had condemned as being terrible. Are the critics who so celebrated Slumdog Millionaire (2008) still high on the film or do they realize that they awarded an old fashioned love story set in India a ridiculous number of Oscars?? Has anyone from the Academy ever sat down and watched The English Patient (1996) again after handing it nine Oscars?? That film, more than any winner pains me because it was so painful to watch and I never understood the adoration of the picture.
The Tree of Life.
The first time I saw the film I admired it, though admitted to struggling with some of it.
The second time I saw the film, I struggled more with it than ever before, read some other reviews praising the film and wondered why they were praising the very things I disliked about the film, and the third and most recent time I watched it, I was angry. Angry at being bamboozled by Terence Malick, angry at myself for being sucked into the thinking that the film is a work of art, angry that I did not catch the self indulgence and blatant disregard, almost contempt for his audience the first time through. Granted I am a child of the seventies and tend to be a worshiper of the greats of the seventies, thrilled that they are still working after all these years doing vital work. Malick was never one of the boys so to speak, and marches to his own drummer. But has he broken from the pack to the extent that he is no longer making films for an audience but rather just himself? If so that is not being an artist…that is masturbation. I struggled to write this because it could be said that I can no longer be trusted as a critic, my credibility is at stake here, but I felt that to be honest about how I felt about the film was to be fair to the readers, who would wonder why the film is not among my best of the year. Say what you will about me, I am honest.
My third viewing I found the picture tedious, torturous and at points I was bored out of my mind, which never happens with me and great films. I have seen Citizen Kane (1941) at least fifteen times and never grow tired watching the film, and The Godfather Part II (1974) I have seen easily twenty times and could watch it right now and not be bored. The films on my ten best list I could watch and not be bored with them, but if you asked me to watch The Tree of Life right now I may run screaming from the room. So what happened the first time I saw the film? Was I so impressed that Malick had broken boundaries with his story telling that I elevated the film in my mind?? Was I trying to hard to bring my love for the seventies artists to the readers and hoped Malick might be another from that wonderful decade they could discover? Did I want to like the film so much my critical eye was clouded?? In my original review I admit to being confounded by the film, and that should have been the warning for me, the point where I should have said, “John you really do not like this film” but it did not happen. There are admirable things in the film, much to like, including the Brad Pitt performance (very powerful), and the lovely Jessica Chastain who is often a tableaux of grief in the movie. The cinematography is quite striking, and I liked that Malick remembers that film is a visual medium, but then again this is not new to him. The Thin Red Line (1998) was a hugely visual film, a two hour plus visual poem if you will about war’s impact not only on mankind but the earth, the creatures who live here besides us!! His next film The New Land (2005) was even more visual, with its startling green forests, and stark snowy landscapes plunging us back in time to when the Americas were still new countries. Now, The New World (2005) I loved, and believe it to be one of the best films of the decade.
The Tree of Life…no. I wanted to like it, I really did!! Why make a movie that is a chore to watch? Malick is known to dislike the press, but has that dislike spilled over to his audiences as well (and they are not huge)? Does he have disdain for everyone watching moves that he can no longer just tell a story? Spielberg is a great storyteller, as is Scorsese. The late great Stanley Kubrick was an equally brilliant storyteller and could fill his films with deep intellect and challenging questions for his audience. Kubrick might have kept them at a distance, but he at least invited them in to watch the film. I admired a lot of The Tree of Life, but never felt like I was welcomed into the film, I never felt he was telling the audience a story, but rather talking to himself.
My friends have put this all down to having a great deal on my mind with my wife ill, but it’s not that. I thought one thing about a film, and changed my mind. It’s allowed. I remember seeing Grease (1978) and at that time I was heavy into foreign language films, so obviously Grease (1978) was silly. But I kept going back because it was fun, pure and simple, and to this day I enjoy the film. Had I not admitted that to myself, had I not possessed the courage to come out and say, I am wrong about Grease (1978) sure it isn’t art, but it’s a lot of fun, I would have deprived myself of a great deal of enjoyment. Yes I am going through a bad time at home, Sherri is with us for likely her last Christmas, and I do not know how I will wake up in a world where she does not exist, but that time is looming. At some point I am going to have to tell our youngest daughter she is going to lose her mom, and I am struggling with that, but these are life matters and life matters have never clouded my critical eye about cinema.
It is said that I wear my heart on my sleeve when I write about film, that I share a great of myself with readers, that I write from the heart, that I write with brutal honesty. I hope so, and I hope I can always be accused of doing so. And right from the heart I am telling you the first I saw Unforgiven (1992) I missed its artistry, its genius, and was man enough to go back and see it again and admit I had missed it. This year I was wrong, dead wrong about The Tree of Life, a film I initially thought was a great film. It’s not, it’s a self indulgent wreck of a movie with some interesting things in it but not enough for me to ever wish to see it again. And for someone who can watch great films over and over and over, that it one bold statement.
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phi_sco
December 28, 2011 at 3:38 pm
Mr. Foote, I so hold your opinion in high regard and love reading your thoughts on cinema, although I do not hold ‘The Tree of Life’ with disdain, nor do I hold ‘The Descendants’ in such high regard. Whatever happens in your personal life, always keep writing from the gut.
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koook160
December 28, 2011 at 4:00 pm
John, I’ve had my disagreements with you before, but never have you actually angered me. As someone who thought he would hate The Tree of Life and was pleasantly surprised, I’m actually quite annoyed. To say Malick has “contempt” for the audience is absolutely outrageous. I felt more than welcomed by him and his masterpiece of a film. The “self-indulgence” you speak of is meerly Malick trying to get the audience to think. Yes, how dare Malick try to get audience members to think for once in their goddamned lives.
But no, perhaps I personalized this film too much? What I saw in the film was pur beauty in every sense of the word. the beauty of childhood innocence. the beaty of forgiveness. The beauty of love. Yes, that’s what I saw in The Tree of Life, a message so powerful that it drove me to tears. To see a child and his father reconcile was so simple, yet so provacative. But the most powerful image I saw in the film was the way it deals with loss. As I said, I may have personalized it, but I felt the same emotions of when I lost my grandmother, and the way it shows those emotions is heartbreaking.
But it was the ending that sold me. My interpertaiton was that while Jack lost his brother, he still had all those memories and the love that they shared is always going to be there. He accepted death. In some ways, it allowed me to come to terms with my own feelings of grief. Did you have a different interpertation? That’s fine. Malick wants that. He wants you to see something beatiful in the ending, whether it be superficial or sentimental. He put his heart and soul into this film, and to say otherwise is ludicrous.
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GL
December 28, 2011 at 4:02 pm
Amazing piece Foote! In today’s society, there is such a need to find the best, the biggest, the loudest of films that very very rarely we’ll watch something twice, or reconsider a film that we might not have liked in the first place. I find so strange sometimes when I personally go see a film. Is like if I like the director, or if I like the actors, I’ll dismiss any short comings of that film. And vice versa which is sad because sometimes I know that I’ll be missing out on a great film because of it. That’s why I try not to hate films in general nowadays and to just go to the movies thinking I’m gonna have a good time. Incredible piece Foote!
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jedgentry
December 28, 2011 at 10:42 pm
I was starting to think I was alone in how I felt about this mess of a film. I felt like Kyle & Stan from South Park when they watched The Passion of the Christ.
I can also relate to what you are saying about your wife, as my mom passed late 2010. Every year we threw an oscar party together, and this will be my 2nd year throwing a party without her. It is tough, and I have nothing but good feelings to send your way. Please take care.
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John H. Foote
December 29, 2011 at 12:21 am
If you found a message of love in The Tree of Life, truly, good for you — for me, the final moments Clooney has over his dying wife is love, because the scene has the courage to admit that with love comes pain and little agonies that make up a marriage — perhaps I saw in that moment myself saying goodbye to Sherri as I will very soon, I don’t know, but there was a greater degree of emotion in The Descendants than in The Tree of Life, for me – and really, man, are you not on here all the time talking that we have our right to a different opinion?? We have a very different opinion of The Tree of Life and I stand by the thought I have that it was a self indulgent mess — I get that Malick wants his audience to think, I do, but what are the answers (if any) and is he challenging us us or condescending to us — for me the latter — but if you got something out it…good. I am happy for you, truly I am.
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koook160
December 29, 2011 at 12:54 am
Actually, I apologize for the hostile tone of my response. I’m a little too passionate about this film. I fully admit to crying like a baby when I saw it. Even on the second viewing, it didn’t loose its power for me. For the record, Clooney crying over his wife had me choked up as well.
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John H. Foote
December 29, 2011 at 3:23 pm
No need to apologize, I have gone on the attack more than once when someone said something about a film I loved — in fact I felt that very anger towards a writer on this site for trashing a film I deeply love — we all have the films we love for different reasons — no harm, glad the film spoke to you. Glad THe DEscendants hit you as well.
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daren.r.fowler
December 29, 2011 at 1:49 am
I fundamentally disagree with you on what the point of art is. Art is about expressing the personal, cinema may be the most personal of all the forms. Art, from its birth on cave walls, has been a means of expression, not of the world proper (no matter what the die hard Realist say), but an expression of one’s own experience of that world. Art is a means of release, of coping, of emotion. For you to act like art is about “inviting” the audience in is ludicrous. We, as the viewers, decide what works we see. Artists decide what they make, they should never think about its discernibility or value to the viewer. Looking from Virginia Woolf to Francesca Woodman to Caravaggio to John Lennon, they were not creating art for you and me, they were creating something for themselves. Being an artist is masturbatory, but as consumers of art, it is something that we certainly condone, if not relish in.
Hate the work, hell hate the artist, but do not act like you deserve something from them. Van Gogh may have wanted to be appreciated, but that is not why he painted.
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John H. Foote
December 29, 2011 at 3:17 pm
Do you not believe that even the cavemen drew to be understood in some primitive way?? To pass on some sort of message? To tell a story visually that they perhaps could not explain? Film is indeed the most personal art form, but does anyone make a film for themselves?? Performance art is ritualistic, the audience lines up, they walk in, their ticket is torn in half and they sit and wait for the performance to begin — then there is that magic moment when the lights dim and we all think, “OK show me” — without an audience watching how can film really exist?? It will not be discussed, it will not be studied or viewed by future audiences — the director needs the audience as much as we need them — I disagree that artists create sheerly for themselves, because they each know and understand that someone, even if it is a single person will read, or see, or hear their work — it is indeed an expression of themselves, and they pass that on to whoever might be listening, seeing of hearing — and no not all artists are masturbators, because many are all too aware of the commerce needed t keep them in business — read up on Malick my friend, his behavior during the making on The Thin Red Line…he just doesn’t care who he alienates because it’s all about him, and sadly that I believe has extended to we the audience…he does not care about us and in fact holds us in contept. My opinion.
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daren.r.fowler
December 30, 2011 at 6:31 am
First thing, art is masturbation from all ends. Artists, even with an acceptance of commerce, are still creating something for and of themselves. The audience is also participating in it by taking the work and giving it meaning for themselves. Art is always about the affect on the one experiencing it, their own pleasure or pain from feeling it. Masturbation! and there is nothing wrong with that. As Woody Allen said, “it’s sex with someone I love.”
Anyways, I simply cannot accept that the artist must be conscious of the audience. Sure, some are, but it is not necessary. One’s vision is one’s own. To be bogged down by what other’s might think is ludicrous and a waste of time. As I said, art is a release, a form of personal expression. The cave paintings were placed in high regard, something of an offering. It was not to themselves, or their fellow species, but something much more spiritual (whatever that might have been). Does Seraphine Louis’ work only become art because it was seen? Was it not art for Seraphine when she did it just for herself, before anyone discovered her genius? The audience may make things known, it does make things art. Admittedly, performance art is a different beast, with its own set of criteria and theories. You have me on that (though your use of “show me,” seems apt for art as masturbation [or is it lap dance?]. We go to art to get off, be it for joy, catharsis, or an orgasm).
I will always value the artist over the audience, because sure without the audience the art cannot be appreciated. Without the artist though, there is no art. The world is filled with art that exists without an audience, it does not demean its beauty, depth, or meaning. If it only gives meaning, pleasure, or catharsis to its creator, then it is art.
I also do not see how Malick alienating people hurts his films? Who cares? If they do not like it, they can leave. Art is voluntary. If you are hurt by alienation, then move on, there are plenty of other things to do. Then again, artist > audience. Or maybe I am just a masochist.
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Jim Wilson
December 29, 2011 at 11:30 am
I’m all for expressing opinions but like kook I took exception to Malick having “blatant disregard, almost contempt for his audience”. I felt this film spoke to me in a way few others ever had. It wasn’t even just the personal connection I had with it, but the way I felt Malick was sharing his own deeply personal feelings with us. I think it’s a very rare thing for directors to successfully do and I’m very surprised by that particular criticism.
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John H. Foote
December 29, 2011 at 3:09 pm
And again I am thrilled the film spoke to you but it most certainly did not to me — I stand where I stand, self indulgent, artistic masturbation — sorry.
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jmlatinsir2
December 30, 2011 at 12:02 am
Thank you, John. I don’t feel I am alone anymore. I was so anxious to see this film I am a great admirer of Mallick. I wanted it to be everything I heard about it. I found it to be an overlong pretentious bore of cinematic masturbation (as you said). Self indulgent to the nth-degree. The family scenes and the performances by PItt and Chastain is its only saving grace, if any. The pretentiously obscure and incoherent sequences with Sean Penn were a total bore. I spend so much time trying to stay with it that I lost any pleasure I may have just gotten if it had been a music video.
Thank you for writing your re-review. I am at peace.
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jmlatinsir2
December 30, 2011 at 12:05 am
by the way, if I made ad. I just had a similar experience with Herzog’s “The Cave of Forgotten Dreams”. I love Herzog. He’s probably the best cinematic poet working today. I have loved many of his films. I also had great interest in the Chauvet Cave, since I had been reading and seeing pictures of it for many years and it was one of the first illustrations I saw in my course book for “Art Appreciation”. This time his voice drove me to distraction; the interviews were dull. I did the unthinkable. I stopped watching.
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Babar
May 1, 2013 at 9:54 am
John H. Foote,
If “the artist” is concerned with the commerce needed to keep him in business, isn’t he merely a prostitute?
PS it would be hard to argue that Tree of Life “spoke to no one” after going back and forth with someone in the comments whom the film spoke to. In the comments, Speaking to someone seems for you the opposite of masturbatory, though I’ve seen very talented porn stars who can both speak to people and masturbate at the same time. And I even found the good will not to be insulted by the whole project when it was so easy to ignore them.
Ignore it. Malick is choosing his audience. You are obviously not among them. There’s no reason to be offended. You are also choosing your filmmakers, but articles like this really serve no purpose but to tear down the possibilities of the form. Isn’t cinema greater for there being films outside your purview and understanding?
pps the sentence where you write about how it’s good that malick understands film is a visual form but he’s done that before is tremendously disappointing. Not only because it seems to be an expression of personal inertness; how can one who watches films for a living be so easily bored by the fact a filmmaker, other than a horror director, actually realizes that watching a film dhould be a visceral experience? And why do all these other directors get a pass for basically not giving more than a shit for finding revelatory images and only for the swiftness of their stories?
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