The narrative, by its very nature, is an attempt to impose some sense of order on the universe. There is a starting point, a series of consequential events, and finally a conclusion, all united by the conviction that these things are interdependent; that they would not have happened without each other, and that their very connection implies meaning, a guiding principle by which the universe is organized, and by which future actions may be prognosticated. While most films are comfortable to work out actions on a very limited timeline, typically years, weeks or days, The Tree of Life expands its very minute (and arguably thin) story to a timeline of eons and a scale of light years, drawing greater significance from a context of cosmic harmony. But in finding its connection points, it seeks not so much to explain the universe as run up against it, to convey immense spatial appetites rather than logical rules that propel us forward in time. Some of its links are stronger than others, but when viewed in the context of the whole, it suggests, if not a perspective equal to the universe itself, at least the perceptive one of Terrence Malick.
By the collision of atoms, a universe is born; in a parallel action, a baby emerges from the womb, beginning a process equally natural and finite. At the same time, a grown Jack (Sean Penn) reflects on his childhood in Austin, Texas, where director Mallick himself spent his boyhood years. Then (as portrayed by actor Hunter McCracken), he is first exposed to life as viewed by his father (Brad Pitt) and mother (Jessica Chastain). His father, a stern taskmaster unsqueamish in matters of corporal punishment, views the world around him as something to be conquered and contained, so that it does not first conquer you. His mother, on the other hand, is considerably more optimistic, remaining open to even painful experiences, such as the death of one of her sons. As a childhood is collected in broken pieces, half-visible signs and wonders that nevertheless left an impression, a fuller portrait of Jack emerges, one in which he is capable of both great empathy and cruelty, spurred naturally from friction with both dueling forces.
The most divisive scene in the film (and the one that probably inspired this sign) is one in which the timeline extends back several million years and spends several minutes with dinosaurs behaving in the generally unsympathetic way that they were presumed to behave. It’s a jarring creative choice, and one that can’t help but feel out-of-place even in a film that has already been challenging, but given the totality of Malick’s scope, it’s consistent with the aesthetic that he has thus far constructed. There is scarcely a scene in Tree of Life greater than three minutes long, with most of its information conveyed in brief flashes of Emmanuel Lubezki’s fluid camera work, which is hardly ever still even in moments of great placidity. Segments of life are seen briefly, but evocatively, so that their significance is not lost on Jack, or to its ultimate portrait of life. Its closest comparison might be to the sections of The Sound and the Fury narrated by Benjy, the man-child whose mind races back and forth in his life’s chronology without clear or apparent connection (Faulkner initially wanted it to be published with the text in different colors to help readers follow). Viewers have the benefit of visual aids, which assists in both following the timeline and creating the connection between the disparate images. Even when making the leap from raptors to Brad Pitt’s, the theme of stern survivalism is apparent, and given Mallick’s sure hand, clearly realized.
Where Tree of Life begins to falter is when it chooses to engage the final component of Malick’s trifecta of man, nature, and God. The religious musings of Jack’s mother, spoken in a sort of free association voice-over, feel organic, but the film frequently veers into imaginary territory that seems to stand in stark opposition to its otherwise natural world. Interspersed with the footage from outer space is Jack wandering in the desert with his childhood self, and eventually veers to a metaphysical place in which age and death seem irrelevant. Had these scenes and the spiritual themes represent taken greater root in the film’s core energy, Tree of Life may have indeed challenged 2001: A Space Oddysey for supreme cosmic significance, but as they are, they seem to reflect Malick’s guilt rather than his wisdom, as if he was certain that there must be a place for the spiritual in this world, even if he’s not sure what it is. There is enough cinematic virtuosity on display in Tree of Life to flatten out nearly all of its creases, and more than equal the forces it seeks to harness, but in spreading its net as wide as it does, it collects more than it can plausibly connect, at least by virtue of spirit alone. Its summation is less that of a magnum opus than of a supremely curious and ambitious artist.
Blu-ray Bonus Features
The Blu-ray contains "Exploring 'The Tree Of Life'", a half-hour documentary that feels more like a paean to the Malick's work, and the stunning theatrical trailer.
"The Tree Of Life" is on sale October 11, 2011 and is rated PG13. Drama. Written and directed by Terrence Malick. Starring Brad Pitt, Jessica Chastain, Sean Penn.
