This is a master class in editing. The play with time is thoroughly enthralling for the viewer. In a film that is playing so much with viewer perception, it's also a plus that there's not too much hand holding here. That said, I wanted a bit more from the third act. I'm not sure we ever get an even remotely interesting answer to one of the more important questions: "Why does it matter what happens to me?" Or, at least, that question only comes to matter on the narrative's surface level.
Showed the film to students this week.
I've written quite a bit about The Tree of Life, but I have still often felt that I've not yet articulated why the film's so important to me on a more personal level.
In the middle of the film when Malick is drawing the obvious contrast between the mother and the father--between the way of grace and the way of nature--he concludes the mother's sequence of scenes with young Jack praying by his…
Maps. Paths. Trees. Faithfulness.
Post-Rolfe there are two shots in the film of Pocahontas sitting--almost fixtured--in a tree. The first takes place in the midst of a series of edits: wedding ring on finger, sky, Pocahontas in the tree's branches. She's had a branch break (Smith) but she's still reaching toward the light until: "Mother, now I know where you live."
It seems on the surface obvious to say so, but Bordwell emphasizes that the quickest way to get a…