|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Malick has been noted for his very lucid visual razzle-dazzlery and we have growing instances of it in Badlands and The Thin Red Line. But in The Tree of Life, he seems to have gone overboard, aided, of course, by cameraman Emmanuel Lubezki, who is given a free rein and sophisticated computer-generated graphics. The fight between two dinosaurs by the riverside is an example of the technology.
The film envisions the origin of the universe and ponders over some of life’s deepest questions, whether it is sorrow or joy, laughter or sobs and tries to put God and nature in perspective. And it is through the O’Brien family in Waco, Texas, of the 1950s that our story is set. The father (Brad Pitt) is loving but stern with his three sons and wife (Jessica Chastian) but is ready to burst out in anger at any given moment. The mother is just the opposite, oozing love and kindness in equal measure. You see it in her eyes, in her actions and her core position in the family is palpable and beyond doubt. The wide range of emotions are expressed through the eldest boy most eloquently. The others flit in and out of this hallowed frame. The film opens with the O’Briens losing one of their sons. The news comes to the mother over the phone. Deep silence, a few sobs and then over to the other grown-up son (Sean Penn) working in a New York office, and then flashes of fond memories of the past. Meanwhile, Lubezki freaks out on the office, its long, long corridors and glassy exteriors as he does with the creation scene. Blue skies, white clouds, volcanish eruption and stormy waters and the tree, trunk upwards, leaves and branches against the faraway sky. It becomes a metaphor of the film but Malick could have done with some restraint. Cinema must communicate. Otherwise, it becomes too indulgent and it isn’t easy to maintain the attention span for all of 140 minutes. Brad Pitt is rightly restrained and it is the fairly unknown Jessica Chastian who steals the show as she virtually goes through a whole gamut of emotions. Sean Penn is merely academic. See it only if you are in a mood for serious but indulgent cinema.
|
|||
|
|
|||
A
Golden Palm winner is always a great attraction for any filmgoer
because Cannes is the Mecca of film festivals and one has fond
memories of that charming seaside town over two decades ago when Shaji
N. Karun’s Piravi really made waves. Actually, the festival
was started as an alternative to Hollywood and its extensive
distribution network which dominated world cinema and made a big dent
into the more realistic European version. How well it has succeeded is
another matter and the fact that American filmmaker Terrence Malick
won the top prize may be a case in point.
