Category Archives: Epic

Movie Review: Days of Heaven

Watching a Terrence Malick film is like taking a stroll through nature. Or in the case of “Days of Heaven,” harvesting it, burning it, and possibly getting killed by it.

“Days of Heaven,” Malick’s second feature, is yet another example of how he brings the natural world to life through film. “Days of Heaven” achieves this on an even grander scale than his previous feature, “Badlands.”
Like his other films, “Days of Heaven” moves at a slow and steady pace, with many often baffling moments. “Days of Heaven” begins in a place that can be described as the opposite of heaven, a steel-mill in early 20th century Chicago. The factory looks more like a third world country than the American Dream. After Bill (Richard Gere), a hard-working but hot-tempered worker at the mill accidentally kills his cruel boss, he flees the city with his girlfriend Abby (Brooke Adams) and his sister for the promise of a better life in the wheat fields of Texas.
No matter how beautiful the sky looks in Texas at sunset, life in the country proves to be difficult, as the wealthy, unnamed farm owner (Sam Shepard) treats his workers like slaves. Bill convinces Abby to marry their boss in order to get a claim to his fortune. Like any get-rich-quick scheme, it ends with more blood and tears than dollars and cents.
“Days of Heaven” is one cinematic story where the story barely matters as you watch it. On a first viewing, the story moves quickly and is hard to follow. That’s partly Malick’s way of telling a story and also because the story is told through the voiceover of a young girl, therefore giving the perspective of a confused child during some very dark events.
While watching “Days of Heaven,” I was convinced that I wasn’t watching a linear story, but instead a detailed tour of the Texas Panhandle. Nestor Almendros received what was probably the most deserving Best Cinematography Oscar ever for his work on this film. The film is shot mostly during the time of day that he describes as the “magic hour,” which is the period of time between sunset and nightfall. During this time, the sky is an almost magical shade of light red. Maybe it shows the false, magical hopefulness of the prosperity of living off of the land. It is also a heavenly presence in the film, something Malick brings into everything he makes.
Under Almendros’s photographic skills, the monotonous colors of the prairie look so vividly alive. As the stalks of wheat sway in the wind, almost in unison, it looks almost as if the fields are instead an ocean. In this film, the landscape is not the background, but rather the life that breaths through it. Some shots seem almost too good to be true. For example, how was a flower growing able to be shot in time lapse, without today’s digital technology? That question will just have to remain a part of the magical mysteries of cinema.
It is intentional, unsurprising, and ironic that the most humane living creatures in “Days of Heaven” are the natural elements of earth and the non-human creatures that inhabit it. The ducks, horses, bison, and many other animals that wander the ranch seem more in touch with the world than the humans there.
As for the people, they are all animalistic and motivated by greed. Bill, who is supposed to be the film’s hero, has none of the qualities of the typical hero. A hero is motivated by a desire to do good and protect those other than themselves. Bill, on the other hand, is just looking out for his own well being. Even the woman he loves is just a tool to make him more powerful.
Like most of the other men Malick portrays in his films, Bill has an underlying aggressive nature, one that usually leads to violence. Unlike Kit Kruthers from “Badlands,” this violent instinct is not a sadistic one but rather one of self-defense. Bill has more in common with the ill-tempered father from “The Tree of Life.”
Malick is purposely a very secretive director. He doesn’t want his personality getting in the way of the messages of his films. If a film is an auteur’s way of expressing himself, Malick does that through “Days of Heaven.” Malick studied philosophy at Harvard, and the actions of the characters in “Days of Heaven” probably don’t represent his moral compass but more a Hobbes like view on man: humans are violent by nature and only act in their best interest.

Of all of the films ever made about the American struggle for prosperity, this is one of the finest. “Days of Heaven” is about both our dependence on the land, and our subsequent betrayal of it. That’s why when the locusts come and black out the sky, it feels partly like nature’s revenge but more like Manifest Destiny biting back.
The downfall of most films is that their characters talk too much and have nothing good to say. Unless you’re as good of a writer as Quentin Tarantino or Woody Allen, embracing silence is a key to success. In “Days of Heaven,” Malick lets the images, along with the sweeping score by Ennio Morricone, do all of the talking. This is what makes “Days of Heaven” more than just a typical Hollywood epic. When you’re trying to tell the story of a country and its inhabitants, sometimes the best way to do so is to just observe. That way you see its beauty, and its horror, exactly as it was intended to be seen.
If You Liked This Movie, You’ll Also Like: Badlands, The Tree of Life, Barry Lyndon, There Will Be Blood, 2001: A Space Odyssey, No Country for Old Men, Once Upon a Time in the West

Movie Review: The Tree of Life

Unless you love, your life will flash by.

Terrence Malick’s “The Tree of Life” is the most highly ambitious film to come out of this year, many past years, and many years in the future. It comes from what must have been years of obsessive thought about both life and film. Only someone this in love with the craft, and with nature, could make this film, and somehow make it masterful.

“The Tree of Life” begins in a small Texas town in the 1950s, in what must be loosely based off of Malick’s own upbringing. Brad Pitt plays the tough patriarch of a family of three boys. Pitt, who is never given a first name, continually fights his wife (Jessica Chastain) over the best way to raise their family.

Throughout the film, they explore loss of innocence and the possible meaning of life. Usually, trying to find the meaning of life is a cheap storytelling technique. But if you’re as good of a filmmaker as Malick is, the answer doesn’t come in one sentence. The film takes us from Texas to the cosmos to the creation of the life, and back again. Somewhere in between, an older version of one of the sons (Sean Penn), comes back to explore it all. The sum of “The Tree of Life” is nearly impossible to explain. After one viewing, any interpretation could be right.

Malick’s latest is a reminder of his films from the past: it takes its precious time, and it is very quiet. “The Tree of Life” is reminiscent of a brief time when films told entire stories through images. Malick’s story, which covers basically the entirety of existence in just two and a half hours, manages to be the cinematic sequel to “2001: A Space Odyssey.” Like “2001,” “The Tree of Life” is nothing short of a cinematic opera.

Malick, while echoing Kubrick, also does something that few filmmakers have done this well: capture the flawed beauty of nature. Light shining on a bed, tall grass being ruffled by human hands, and flies buzzing around a lake at dusk have never looked this stunning. He captures both the sights and sounds of the natural world to a perfectionist degree. This is naturalistic filmmaking at its finest. Through a camera lens, he encapsulates Thoreauvian philosophy.

As a critic, it is important to try and avoid overanalyzing. However, for a film like “The Tree of Life,” overanalyzing is crucial. Through his film, Malick is trying to find more than just the meaning of life, because life doesn’t have just one meaning. “The Tree of Life” is about what is out there, and what brings us all together.

Some might call Malick’s film a religious one. While religion seems to be a big factor, I would say that the film straddles the line between spirituality and atheism. It asks these essential questions: when it comes to dealing with the biggest questions in life, who (or what) do we turn to? Do we look to nature, the possibility of God, or our friends and family? No choice we make is a decent or right one, unless it is done out of some form of love.

“The Tree of Life” is not a film that offers easy answers. Within a half hour, many people in the audience had walked out, something I haven’t witnessed since “A Serious Man.” After “The Tree of Life” ended, one woman remarked that the film was reminiscent of a bunch of Windows screen savers. A friend of mine compared it to the greatest “South Park” episode ever.

While both of these interpretations are funny, they do not do Malick’s film justice. The cinematography is the result of years of careful work, not stealing. Meanwhile, overanalyzing is the act of finding meaning in the meaningless. Malick surely had some deeper purpose in trying to discover how life exists and thrives.

“The Tree of Life” is hard to be in love with the first time around, but I feel a need to recommend it. I can’t get over the brilliant way in which Malick speeds up, and then slows down, the story at just the right moments. Many films made nowadays try to think up and balance big ideas, but few are ever this meditative.

Movie Review: Badlands

“Badlands” just proved the impossible to me: an epic story can be told in under two hours. In fact, all you really need is 90 minutes. It may just be that Terrence Malick is one of the best, and definitely the briefest, epic storyteller.

“Badlands” is a story that’s been done time and time again. Yet, Malick takes it and tells it in the most gripping, original way possible. “Badlands” begins in a quaint South Dakota suburb. It’s told from the point of view of Holly (Sissy Spacek), a bored fifteen-year-old with an overbearing and abusive father. She forms a relationship with Kit (Martin Sheen), a rebellious garbageman with the look and attitude of James Dean. Kit “saves” Holly from her sheltered life and they live a slightly nomadic life on the road. They leave a bloody trail up to the Badlands of South Dakota.
“Badlands” came out just six years after the revolutionary “Bonnie & Clyde.” I bring this up simply because the story of Kit and Holly nearly matches the story of Bonnie and Clyde. Though in a way, “Badlands” might just be a better movie because their escape feels so much more painstakingly built up to. Not to mention, their crimes are even more inexplicable and therefore even more horrifying.
The greatness of “Badlands” can be attributed to the culmination of so many different things. It is not merely an achievement in one field. First off, there’s the fine performance by the then unknown, but now legendary stars. Sheen so perfectly emulates James Dean, the one man his character constantly seems to try to emulate. Spacek meanwhile, is so convincing in her innocence that even after all Holly has been through, we realize she is nothing more than a confused and misguided teenager.
Despite the fact that nearly everything in the movie achieves for the satisfying whole, “Badlands” is overall a triumph in cinematography and directing. The images at times feel less like film and more like still photos. They are jaw dropping in their scope. It’s amazing how the film is able to turn nature into a living, changing character. We get to see the sky turn from day to dusk to light.
Of course, not of that would be possible without Malick. Malick is a known recluse who only directs a film every 20 years or so. That’s a shame. He has created possibly one of the most beautifully shot films I’ve ever seen. It’s not just what’s in the images, but how much detail is put in every shot that astonishes me so much. Sometimes, it seems like nature is more important to Malick than the actual story. Look closely at how Malick makes the tall, brown grass looks golden. And watch how the gold contrasts to the lush green right behind it.
Look at other times how the characters are framed against the ever expanding desert, or the gorgeous sun at dusk. These are our characters: as wild and curious as the world that surrounds them. Nature is our characters. Our characters are nature. It’s not just the fact that the images are beautifully shot, but that they feel so real. Everything about “Badlands” just feels absolutely organic.
What I feel is so impressive about Malick’s direction is not just the images he shows, but how he strings all of that together into a story. Some films linger on their beautiful images and forget to tell their stories. Malick doesn’t forget his. He manages to both tell a compelling story and take extended breaks to admire the scenery without running on forever. It’s epic filmmaking without an annoyingly long epic running time. I’d also like to add that the film’s climax includes one of the best chase scenes never talked about in cinema. It’s eerily personal, and so effective in how it manages to create sympathy for a character who really doesn’t deserve it.
“Badlands” has an influence that extends well into today’s world of film. I can see its visual influence in filmmakers like the Coen Brothers, Sam Mendes, and Gus Van Sant. It has imagery that will forever haunt and stun me. The story of Kit and Holly being blinded by false ideas of freedom and rebellion is like the ultimate American ballad. And Mallick is not just its auteur, but its poet.
If You Liked This Movie, You’ll Also Like: Bonnie & Clyde, My Own Private Idaho, Natural Born Killers, Mean Streets, Barry Lyndon, American Beauty, Away We Go, No Country for Old Men

Movie Review: Avatar

James Cameron only makes a movie every 10 or so years. But every time he does, he seems to rewrite the rules of filmmaking. With “Avatar,” James Cameron not only rewrote the rules, but opened a whole new book.

“Avatar” is one of those films that’s not just a film, but a vision beyond anyone’s wildest dreams; it’s daring in ways one couldn’t even imagine.
Cameron’s strange yet fascinating sci-fi epic takes a few steps to break down, it’s a premise that mixes contemporary society with ancient faiths. “Avatar” takes place around the year 2154. At this point, the earth has been totally ravished by humans (and, not mentioned in the movie, run out of oil), so the human race heads toward a distant moon called Pandora. Pandora contains a race of creatures called the Na’vi, a tall, blue species with a cat-like face and human tendencies. More important to humans, the moon also contains a valuable, energy-rich rock called Unobtanium. In order to get the Unobtanium, humans infiltrate and then hope to destroy the Na’vi by slipping into their bodies in Na’vi form. These bodies are called Avatars.
War veteran Jake Sully (Sam Worthington), paralyzed from the waist down, takes his brother’s place on Pandora after he dies. He is sent to become part of the Na’vi, but in the process, he becomes a powerful member of the tribe, and falls in love with a Na’vi woman (Zoe Saldana).
In some ways, in different hands “Avatar” could have been a disaster, or maybe just an action film like any other action film ever made. But in the hands of a man with a real vision, “Avatar” is something totally different. “Avatar” is shot with a new form of Motion Capture technology that Cameron himself invented. This form looks stunningly real, from the monsters that live on Pandora, to the Na’vi themselves. While some forms of Motion Capture come out as uncannily unrealistic, there is something about the Na’vi that is incredibly human.
The film is shown in 3-D, a usually wasteful tool to add to feature length films. It is something I usually associate with the Muppet ride at Disney World. When used in most films, the only thing it is used for is to shoot raindrops or bullets out at the audience. “Avatar,” however, uses its 3-D to make its images more stunning. It seems like more of a way to put the viewer into the film than create some means of shock value. While I hope 3-D doesn’t become a regular feature in filmmaking, if it is used for this purpose alone, then I really wouldn’t mind.
The storyline of “Avatar” has many elements derived from both contemporary issues and religions. This helps turn the film into a pretty effective parable of human nature in both the past and the present. For example, Avatar comes from the Hindu faith and is the manifestation of a deity from heaven to earth. That makes sense, as Avatars are humans in Na’vi form. Also, the entire film itself seems based off the Hindu belief of reincarnation, as the wheel-chaired Jake wants so desperately to be reborn into something else.
The film also seems to take on the totally unrelated ideology of Shinto, in which it is thought that people have a spiritual connection with the natural world, a connection the Na’vi share with their own planet.
When looking at “Avatar” from a contemporary perspective, one could quite obviously point out that it is a highly critical look at man’s depletion of his own home. Some might even try and politicize the film for this reason, though politics should be left out of it.
Looking deeper into the film, one could see that it is about the horrors of imperialism. The war between the humans and the Na’vi often mirrors the destruction of the Native Americans of the United States or the Aztecs in Central America. It is also about the human instinct to act as pillagers: destroying one land, and then moving on to the next.
Moving beyond the themes, the greatest part about “Avatar” is its incredible CGI. Pandora becomes a planet that seems almost tangible. Every aspect of it, from the animals to the plants to the water, is something that could never have been thought of by anyone. In this light, one could almost say “Avatar” is the “Star Wars” of this generation that we’ve all been waiting for.
Alas, “Avatar” doesn’t go without its minor flaws. At times, some of the dialogue is a little clunky. Also, the basic storyline is one that has been done before in one way or another. However, the context it is put into is totally original.
Quite simply “Avatar” is such a great filmgoing experience because its audacious, and its exciting. The end battle sequence is one that could rival the ones from “The Return of the King” and “Lawrence of Arabia.”
The very first line of “Avatar” is, “You’re not in Kansas anymore!” This shows that in “Avatar,” you’re being swept out of your comfort zone and being taken to a place beyond the imagination. It could also be nothing less than a shout out to “The Wizard of Oz,” a film that led the way to a new dimension of filmmaking with its bold use of color. Cameron is the kind of filmmaker with the vision to accomplish this.
Cameron always manages to defy our expectations. People doubted him before “Titanic” came out and they did the same with “Avatar.” Both times he totally changed the game. As Pandora was the beginning of a new frontier for humans, “Avatar” is the beginning of a new frontier for filmmakers worldwide.
Note: Earlier, I accidentally wrote that Pandora was a planet, when it is in fact, a moon. We all make mistakes sometimes, and for this one, I apologize. Thanks to Cameron Bruce for catching this mistake.

Movie Review: Gangs of New York

Of all of the stunning images from “Gangs of New York,” one that sticks out is a shot that starts off on street level, and continues to go higher and higher until the 19th Century style buildings become the shape of the island of Manhattan. Here is a city that, over the years, I’ve grown to know and love. Here it is, in a form like we’ve never seen before.

“Gangs of New York” is Martin Scorsese’s latest vision of the mean streets of his beloved New York. However, it takes place 100 years before the days of “Mean Streets” and “Taxi Driver,” during Civil War ravished America.
The film starts off during a vicious gang war in 1848. Amsterdam Vallon (Leonardo DiCaprio) is the son of respected Irish immigrant Priest Vallon (Liam Neeson). On the opposite side is Bill ‘The Butcher’ Cutting (Daniel Day-Lewis). Bill is the glass-eyed son of a Revolutionary War soldier who gushes with patriotism. He’s known as The Butcher not just for his day job, but for his weapon of choice.
As tensions rise between the Irish and the so-called ‘Natives,’ Bill murders Priest. Many years later, Amsterdam returns to a corrupt, Boss Tweed ruled Five Points and seeks revenge.
“Gangs of New York” shows Scorsese’s recent fascination with American culture wars, as this film can be seen as something of a counterpart to his recent “The Departed.” However, this film explores the roots of American diversity. It’s about the earliest days of bigotry, much of it rising from immigration. In a way, much of the situations and dialogue sound frighteningly similar to the current national conversation on immigration.
Adding on to this is the near accurate version of history portrayed. While Hollywood will often portray history through a myopic lens of clean precision, Scorsese takes no shame in showing the filth, the blood, and the anger that shaped this era. Extra special attention is paid to the stunning sets. At times, it can distract from actual plot depth, but it definitely helps raise the story’s level of believability.
Of course Scorsese’s direction is excellent, but what stands out most is Day-Lewis’ performance as Bill the Butcher. He is truly the best actor of this generation, and the carrier of the method torch. He steps into the character and makes him both a blood-thirsty savage and a patriot feeling betrayed by a country he helped defend. He may be racist, but his feelings can be understood. Not to mention, all he has to do is sharpen a knife, or just squint his eyes to become the most intimidating presence in the film. He basically steals all chance for any other actor in the film to shine.
Now, back to Scorsese. What makes Scorsese one of the great directors of cinema is that he knows how to handle violence better than any other director. Of all of his films, “Gangs of New York” may be his bloodiest. While most directors might show someone being stabbed and barely show the consequences, Scorsese slows things down and allows us to see the horrible, dehumanizing consequences of each kill. Later, after another major battle, the cobblestone streets turn into a red river. To Scorsese, violence isn’t something to cheer on or admire, but rather something to be sickened by. Meanwhile, the aerial shots of the war dead are reminiscent of the sprawling images of the dead in “Gone with the Wind.”
Upon its release, “Gangs of New York” divided audiences right down the middle. I believe it is a minor masterpiece; it doesn’t reach “Goodfellas” or “Raging Bull” heights, but its certainly no sign of a Scorsese downfall either. The film runs over two and a half hours yet races by as Scorsese explores his favorite themes of honor, religion, and family. Like in any Scorsese film, the backdrop, cinematography, editing, and score of “Gangs of New York” is extremely well detailed and masterful. They portray the chaos of the era in the same way that each room in “Goodfellas” distinguished when exactly Henry was doing well or doing poorly. And while some have criticized that too much is covered at once, it all serves to cover the chaos.
Part of the problem could be in the story itself. While Scorsese at first creates the interesting idea that while Bill hated Priest, he had a deep respect for him. Once the conflict between Bill and Amsterdam arises that inexplicably seems to disappear from the film together with little explanation. Many scenes also seem pulled right out of the revenge film playbook. For example, the scene where Amsterdam saves Bill’s life so he can later murder Bill himself is pulled straight from “Once Upon a Time in the West.” A little clarification is never a bad thing.
But, these are just minor flaws. Overall, “Gangs of New York” exceeds its epic counterparts (mainly “300″) in creating a vision of the past that’s exciting and fascinating without actually losing a grip on the history part. It’s a beautifully made history lesson about the birth of a nation and a bitter love letter to a city that spawned one of the greatest directors of all time.