- Whether the result of a cosmic coincidence or some act of divine intervention, I happened to watch Terrence Malick's The Tree of Life the same week I saw Alejandro G. Iñárritu's The Revenant. The only direct link between the two films is their cinematographer, the immensely talented Emmanuel Lubezki, but the two feature a surprising amount of structural and thematic overlap. Both films feature relatively abstract narratives and a minimum of dialogue. Each depicts parents reacting to the loss of a child, albeit in very different ways. Both are obsessed with images of nature and its relationship to humanity. Upward-looking shots of trees abound.
- All of that said, nobody would ever mistake one film for the other. Whereas The Revenant wallowed in blood, mud, and misery for all of its considerable runtime, The Tree of Life is a much more serene contemplation. There are joyous moments, such as the birth of a first child to Mr. and Mrs. O'Brien (Brad Pitt and Jessica Chastain). There are eruptions of great delight when the three O'Brien boys, Jack (Hunter McCracken), R.L. (Laramie Eppler), and Steve (Tye Sheridan), are awoken by their playful mother. There are even a few happy moments shared with their father, although these have grown increasingly rare over time.
- It's difficult to pinpoint why Mr. O'Brien is so stern with his children. He clearly loves them, but his fixation with preparing them for "the real world" often translates into excessive scolding and excruciating lectures. Dinnertime is a minefield where even a stray comment or errant smile can produce an unwarranted explosion. Mrs. O'Brien is unhappy but deferential. When dad (excuse me, "father") is out of town, the kids shriek with delight and slam the screen door as loudly as they like. The oldest boy, Jack, slowly experiments with rebellion, breaking windows and bullying his brothers. It doesn't take a lot of imagination to picture Jack growing up into another stern father who will be resented by his own children.
- But then again, we don't have to rely on our imaginations to see how Jack grows up. The film also provides a glimpse of Jack as an adult, played by Sean Penn. This is long after the tragic death of his younger brother R.L., the exact circumstances of which are left intentionally vague. Now Jack works as an architect whose face wears a constant pained expression. One gathers that Jack thinks back a lot on his childhood, and how he related to his father, mother, and brothers. Judging from the film's voiceovers, his parents had similar concerns about family and God when they were his age, especially after the death of R.L. The Tree of Life connects these mystical musings, with the help of visual effects master Douglas Trumbull, to the Big Bang, dinosaurs, and the end of the world. It is to the film's great credit that these connections feel almost natural -- and the film is very much about feelings and nature, above all.
- It is probably impossible to watch The Tree of Life without reflecting on one's own family. I didn't have any brothers or grow up in Texas during the 1950's, but I'm sure there are parallels for all who wish to find them. In fact, the movie's believable characters, wondrous visuals, and epic soundtrack are all so awe-inspiring that I found myself gradually ignoring my concerns over its obsession with the Book of Job (in my opinion, the worst possible answer to the best theological question) and its portrayal of an afterlife where you literally reunite with lost loved ones on a beach. Malick and Lubezki have created such a transporting film that it disarms logic, for better or worse. Instead, you're left with lingering shots of sunflowers and an impression of a universe that, however temporarily, actually makes sense.
