To the Wonder

The beautiful images and music gradually fade away when they have nothing to fall back on. Without a story or actors, all that is left is fleeting poetry and a plethora of monologues that become tiresome as the runtime increases. Wandering from nowhere to nowhere. An experience that will fade into oblivion. (10/07/2013)

A sclerotic look back at a love life in which fragments of memories and feelings are purposefully arranged into some meaningful plot. It’s a long cinematic journey from gushing over a beautiful introduction, through atmospheric levitation in the middle of a bison herd, to a gradually growing test of the audience’s patience. At least Olga Kurylenko and Rachel McAdams are bewitching and the music is nice. (16/09/2013)

Terrence Malick is once again trying to persuade us that he is a film poet and that his slow shots are art and not a documentary film about French and other landmarks. What must be acknowledged is the fact that Malick has understood one thing: the less Ben Affleck speaks, the better he acts. I personally don't fully grasp Malick's poetry, and even though many may be grateful to him for undressing Rachel McAdams, I conclude that the film is merely a montage of long shots that aim to evoke the idea that a heartbreaking story lies beneath them. (21/11/2013)

Considering how many of his own memories Terrence Malick inserted into the miracle, it is a blatant betrayal on his part how he chucks them at the viewer. Not to mention that Olga Kurylenko and Ben Affleck frequently fail in their improvised alternating of basic acting expressions. I am not being unfair to the original creative intention, because I believe that each of us has the impression that his emotional journey through relationship life is the most interesting. Yet that doesn't change the fact that I need to know at least something about the characters, that I need them to come alive. Letting them stand and sadly gaze into the distance is not enough to spark greater interest. (22/03/2015)

Two hours of images of people walking on fields, at home, in construction sites, in a supermarket, with some crap here and there. What is this love that loves us. Awful. Once again, Malick reveals his heart swarming with clichéd images and only at first sight profound phrases that even a well programmed robotic generator could put together, and once again I see that I don’t want to have anything in common with his heart. For me it balances on the border of unintentional laughability and annoying insufferability. I don’t know, maybe I’m a shallow yokel, but I think liking this is nothing but a bloated pose. Maybe in a couple of years… probably not. (17/04/2013)