Knight of Cups ★★★★★

I don't have the right to gaze at bewitchant mystery

I turned off the Technicolor, entered the darkness, looked to the stars swimming in the black pool of depths uncharted.
I gain sense from them, that I am restricted access to from Knight of Cups.

He is lost, on a plateau of meaning. Rick wonders amongst others lives like a ghost leaves imprints through shivers down a spine.
A slave addict to success but despairs at constant voids ordained in his orbit. Descry in woman and distract the emptiness endured simultaneously.

Nothing but wide Lens.
Enter a world seen through his eyes, an endless void with so much distraction, so much to distract from, endless sights. Cinematography speaking lyrical.

Surpassed in a world of illusion but seeking reality.
Rick embodies the Tarot card of the same name of the title. Rick is stuck in the present,
and the Knight of Cups serves an Artist to adventure as well as romanticize.

Malick's mind is unmatched with substance revelled from translation in style of endless, tragic, tormenting chapters through a poetic existance.

Scene to scene Christian Bale ponders his eyes apon anything worth seeing.
Striding in what feels like a symphonic universe