An exploration of God, nature and man’s attempt to balance opposing forces within ourselves, Terrence Malick’s latest film is grand film-making, at once highly conceptual and yet deeply personal. It uses the microscopic internal world of a single man, trying to make sense of himself, to examine the broadest questions of God and the universe. While it doesn’t entirely hit the mark, and has polarised audiences, it’s incredibly exciting to see this sort of creative output, particularly at a time when the cinemas are otherwise flooded with sequels and remakes.

The Tree of Life is formed around the memories and thoughts of Jack O’Brien (played as an adult by Sean Penn). It starts out as a very loose narrative, memories of the death of Jack’s brother being reported to his parents (Brad Pitt and Jessica Chastain) while Chastain whispers gently over the visuals that “The nuns taught us there were two ways through life: the way of nature and the way of grace. You have to choose which one you’ll follow.” Nature, in this instance is willful, aiming only to please itself, while grace accepts insult and injury. She concludes that “no one who follows the way of grace ever comes to a bad end”. This conflict between the extremes of human acceptance is the central theme of the film, and when the film reaches its conventional narrative (or the closest it comes to that), it is examined through the narrow prism of Jack’s parents.

Before it can reach this narrative though, the film switches into twenty minutes of symbolism. Largely experimental, this section shows a shifting series of images, from the evolution of life, to an exploration of the universe. As the movie progresses, the audience becomes able to assign meaning to many of these symbols and make sense of the ideas that Malick is trying to impart, but as with any allegory, it is going to be interpreted wildly differently by each person, depending on what ideas and preconceptions they bring into the cinema.

After the symbolism, the majority of the film is spent in the childhood of Jack O’Brien (played here by Hunter McCracken) and his brothers. We see their birth and youth, until the film comes to rest with Jack at around ten years of age, as he plays, rebels, loves, hates and seeks to find his place in the world. This part of the movie is beautifully, if somewhat superficially, sketched. The child actors are wonderfully naturalistic and I’ve not seen another film that reminds one so easily of what it was to truly be a child. All the positives and negatives of youth, displayed perfectly in the mundane moments of daily life, never feel anything but heartfelt and real.

Jack’s father is a classic 1950’s authoritarian, the clear representation of nature. More feared than loved, and seeming unsure whether he wants to be either, he rules his family completely and is by turns affectionate and aggressive; wanting to be a good man, but angry at his lot in life and trapped by his own failed expectations. This is a bravura performance by Brad Pitt and has to rate as one of his best, all subtle physical motions and restrained anger masked by convivial neighbourliness. The boys’ mother is the other archetype in the piece. Playful and loving as she teaches her children to accept the world as it is, not as it should be and to love one another completely. Chastain embodies the ideas of grace that Pitt’s character seems to reject, yet yearn for so badly. Despite beginning as archetypes though, both characters show that there is more than one dimension to them and that no person is truly ever anything but a combination of polarising forces.

The internal struggle between grace and nature is complemented in The Tree of Life by the struggle to come to terms with an uncaring deity, who is capable of great beauty, but also of great callousness. As the young Jack O’Brien whispers: Why should I be good if you aren’t? The use of a quote from Job to start the movie also reinforces this theme. My companion for the film mentioned afterwards that he felt Malick was trying to express Spinoza’s view of God, that the world is not God, but it is, in a strong sense, "in" God, a subset of him, and this seems the most accurate explanation. The struggle for this understanding and for our place in this subset of God marks the struggles of both Sean Penn and Brad Pitt’s characters in the film.

The cinematography in The Tree of Life, as with most of Malick’s films, is worthy of particular note. Filmed by Emmanuel Lubezki, who has previously shot Children of Men, and Malick’s last feature The New World, the visuals on display are sumptuous. Much as with The New World, the colours, the light that filters through the trees and the gradual shifts in focus paint a beautiful picture. Almost any frame of the movie, taken by itself, would be a work of art, and this definitely confirms Lubezki as one of the best cinematographers in the business today.

As is probably clear by this point, The Tree of Life sets out very strongly to be art and to be important, and while it achieves both of these things it does, at times, forget to be entertaining. It shrouds its own questions in so many layers of symbolism that it leaves The Tree of Life feeling slightly unformed, full of important questions that are never fully defined and not truly answered. It does seem like Malick believes he has reached a conclusion, but the ending of the film is disassociated, implying an emotional and euphoric catharsis that hasn’t been suggested at or earned by the preceding two hours, and as such fails to satisfy.

Despite the missteps, this is truly cinema as poetry, crazily ambitious and totally unique. What other director out there is game enough to get two of the biggest actors in the world and use them to make an opaque spiritual allegory? The Tree of Life is not a film for everyone. Many people, even fans of Malick, are going to be bored to tears but, for those willing to take the plunge, this is an incredibly rewarding experience. Just make sure to take a friend that you can debate the meaning of the film with afterwards.

-Sky Kirkham