Director Spotlight: Terrence Malick

A great source of contention as a child was my mother’s ability to slip out of answering any personal questions. Even in my adolescence, I noticed the strange parent-child temporal relationship that exists: the parent knows every aspect of the child’s life since birth, yet the child is not granted the same privileges. It didn’t help that my mother took particular joy in keeping her past a mystery (as I would soon too learn to love), nor that she championed the nuance present in all questions.

No matter whether I asked her about fruit or colors, my mom never chose favorites. So when I asked her what her favorite movie was, she of course couldn't give me a straight answer. However, she did say that one of her favorites was Terrence Malick’s Days of Heaven (1978). And I can’t blame her. For one, it’s a safe pick, being critically acclaimed and beautiful. Secondly, because I can see parts of her in the film. Of course, the midwestern woman who can’t help but love a good period piece would choose Days of Heaven. The poetry of the story is hypnotic, and it expresses themes of hard work and family that are so crucial to her own life.

Days of Heaven (1978)

In 1910, Bill, a steelworker from Chicago, must upend his life after getting into a fight and ultimately killing his boss at the steel mill. Bill, his lover Abby, and his younger sister Linda ride the rails to Texas where they find work harvesting wheat for a Texan farmer.

The film develops into a tragedy, with a love triangle in the background, that is a must-watch for any film enthusiast. In the end though, the film is really about a feeling, and the story and techniques are just a means of conveying that feeling. The mythos behind the film is of equal interest. Not to mention that it is often cited as one of the most beautiful films ever made.

Following its release and subsequent success, Malick disappeared and rumors developed as to where he was and what he was doing––some even speculating that he had died. Luckily, we’ve been graced by many Malick projects since then and can confirm that he is not in fact dead. However, he remains a bit of a recluse, never participating in the obligatory press and publicity rounds that fellow great directors often occupy.

Badlands (1973)

Admittedly my first Malick flick, and I suppose Malick’s first feature-length work as well, Badlands is the perfect casual watch. Inspired by the real-life killers Charles Starkweather and Caril Ann Fugate, the indie film stars fresh-faced Sissy Spacek (Carrie, 1976) and Martin Sheen (Apocalypse Now, 1979) as the lovers embark on a crime spree from the small-town Midwest to the Badlands of Montana.

Once again, Malick’s pictures are gorgeously golden and captivating as a way to subvert the grisly murders, while emotions are masked by this picturesque world and the naivete of youth. Malick also uses his directorial debut to introduce the ongoing motifs of nature and the American Dream that are prevalent throughout his filmography. Malick’s more recent work continues to build from this stylistic and thematic foundation.

The Tree of Life (2011)

Upon viewing The Tree of Life (2011), I was at once hit by the intensity of Malick’s directorial capabilities. The 139-minute runtime masterfully captures the perspective and feeling of childhood innocence, awe, confusion, and wonder. Centered around Jack, who grapples with his past and his relationship with his parents, the film’s intimate yet expansive perspective exists in 1950s Texas but also all of space and time. Conversations flow not as plot points but as the innocent eavesdropping of a sweet summer boy.

With this exploration of boyhood, Malick somehow manages to also send viewers into an existential crisis. Deeply philosophical and meditative, the characters exist more as points in time, or in Jack’s life, rather than as their own distinct entities. The film seems to span throughout all of time and space, suggesting a universality to our lived experiences while simultaneously making the mundanity of life exciting and unique. Viewers are confronted by the fullness of time and the cycles similar to the naturally occurring processes of birth and rebirth that occupy it. Malick situates this meditation on a single life within the context of the expanding universe and the history of time. And if that doesn’t make you want to see this, I don’t know what will.

Whenever I think of Terrence Malick––the masterful photography of golden wheatfields, the tender emotions between family members, and the delicacy with which the poetic writing is handled––I think of my mom. But believe me, whether or not one has a personal association with Terrence Malick, his work will grip you by the shoulders and make you question our relationships as humans with nature, nurture, and foe.