If I can prevent just one person from watching this, it’ll have been worth suffering through it.

After an opening sequence of scenes flashing between past and modern times, the story is interrupted by the barely audible questioning of God, something that becomes a running theme and occurs at completely random intervals throughout the film. This first instance triggers a breathtaking, Discovery Channel-worthy “Creation of the Universe” sequence (almost sixteen minutes long) complete with a shot of a beached Nessie and Darwinian evolutionary jumps (none of which seem to have anything to do with the random jumble of info provided at the opening). Following this is a montage of family film clips, extreme point-of-view shots, and dramatic orchestra music. Finally, fifty minutes in, something resembling a narrative begins at the dinner table with Big Daddy Pitt in his Waco, Texas home… no, wait, now we’re in an airplane (sigh). We learn in Sunday school that everything dies while Big Daddy Pitt says “You can’t be too good in this life, and you can’t say ‘I can’t.’” Enter the longhaired brunette schoolgirl, a drowning, Snow White in a glass coffin, and (finally!) something interesting: ‘tweenage rebellion and defiance. Sean Penn at last reappears (at the two-hour mark!) in a suit… in the desert. No, wait… back to space. People from every era of the film appear together while wandering aimlessly at the beach. There are doors, masks, sunflowers, and water… lots of life-giving, boring water. The end. No, really.

Incredible cinematography? Check. Beautiful soundtrack? Check. Narrative? You won’t find any such thing ’round these parts. There’s been little secret that Terrence Malick isn’t among my favorite directors. One of the most meaningless, wasteful films I’ve ever reviewed, The Thin Red Line, has stood as this reviewer’s all-time least recommended film. With the hype and awards for his newest creation, The Tree of Life, I had hoped that the reclusive yet inexplicably celebrated auteur might have crafted something, well, watchable. Congratulations, Mr. Malick; you’ve topped yourself and my every expectation, and The Thin Red Line must be relegated to my second least recommended film of all time.

Continue reading →