There could be a thousand angles in which to approach The Tree of Life, all of which would omit another notable aspect of Terrence Malick’s masterpiece, such is its depth. It’s a film that will inspire, it’s a film which will yield derision, it’s a film which will go down as a historical artefact as one of the greats of our era. Only time will tell if it’s as influential as say, 2001, yet it could well do. It’s that important.
It feels almost a crime to tell anything about the story, but the basic plot follows Sean Penn’s Jack O’Brien, who receives news of his brother’s death. What’s happened? We don’t know, nor do we need to. Yet as Jack sees a tree being planted, his mind is cast back to his childhood, and his upbringing under his passive mother, Jessica Chastain, or his iron-fisted yet intrinsically loving father, who is played by Brad Pitt in a role which should cement his place as one of the greats. Penn further reflects on life in general and its beginnings, in which we see a complementary sequence displaying the evolution of life (the infamous dinosaurs rear their head here) and the production of matter in a CGI-free portion which is as astonishing as anything committed to celluloid. Again, like the lights sequence in 2001 (who’s effects supervisor, Douglas Trumbull returns here after a near-30 year hiatus) the images displayed are unlike anything else and simply must be seen to believe.
The Tree of Life is overwhelmingly an ode to childhood and its follies and foibles in which we see that in spite of the incredible processes that go on every day in nature and in spite of what may happen in life, there’s always a period in which innocence and naivety reigns supreme. As a young Jack and his brothers, all played astoundingly by newcomers, remain wide-eyed at the realisation that nothing in nature is perfect or undertaking the things that boys do, from smashing a window to having an imaginary friend, the viewers are transported back to a time where everything seemed simple. It’s one of the most accurate portrayals of those formative years, aided by the fact that it is filmed so that it seems like its Penn’s imagination- voiceovers are whispered rather than spoken, shots are fractured and hazy, and the average shot length is in the single digits. It’s a way of shooting which aids it, never feeling gimmicky, yet feeling like you are Sean Penn’s mind reliving these things yourself.
Jessica Chastain’s early voiceover (whisper-over?) states that life can go two ways, nature or grace. If her way is grace, that of a character who is more emotionally-connected to her children, who conducts herself with the utmost dignity and who is seen at one point floating under a tree to illustrate her manner, then Brad Pitt’s is that of nature. Ensuring that the children refer to him as ‘father’ (the connection between this and Jack’s constant questioning to God uncovers even more layers), he is a man who is torn between the clear love for his children which he expresses and that of someone who demands respect and believes that a patriarchal household is ideal. His character is at once both endearing yet terrifying, his volatile way being reflective of the differences in nature yet he is also tragic. As his business is crumbling around him, he conducts simple tasks such as growing vegetables with a twinge of sadness in his eye, yet he never lets this show. He has his family and that’s all he needs.
It’s been said that this is Malick’s most personal film, and that may well be true. However, it’s a film in which in decades to come, other meanings and subtexts will come to the surface. It’s not hard to see why people will dislike it, it’s slow pace and arthouse pretention unlikely to be everyone’s cup of tea, but the best works are always the most polarising ones. It’s quite simply a work of genius.