Despite the bad critics and some booing from the Cannes premiere crowd two days ago this is the film I anticipate the most right now. It might also be the answer to all of Conor's questions asked two posts ago. This is also supposed to be the film why Malick disappeared for 20 years between Days of Heaven and The Thin Red Line, not being able to pull off this major achievement then. Another 13 years and The New World have passed, making it the Son of God's lifetime for this movie to be in production. Since you can't enlarge (or I don't seem to be able to enable that function) the YouTube window from here, click on it again after you hit the play button to get to the YouTube site to, because that's what this sentence is all about, enlarge the trailer to full size. You don't want to have it otherwise, trust me. Or just click on this link to get there directly. Just found another clip here.
5 films in 40 years and every one considered a masterpiece. Interesting enough that imdb lists yet another Malick film as being in post-production already. Spotting Ben Affleck in the cast, I really don't know what to think of that. Wikipedia lists it as The Burial and I do nothing but hope that Malick doesn't bury his talents and integrity for good with this one. In the meantime (The Tree of Life opens June 16 in Germany) I'm watching Malick's acknowledged masterpieces in chronological order. And you definitely should do that, too.
The German DVD of at least Badlands has shitty picture quality. Really shitty, that is. You should try to get hands on some HD and Criterion Collection editions of these films.
The song I'm listening to most for about a week now. Actually there might have been no other: Bright Eyes "Don't Know When But A Day Is Gonna Come"
Listen closely to the lyrics, very closely. And to Conor's voice. And the guitar. And the amazing base line. And how the song develops and unfolds. Listen closely to the beautiful lines and how Conor's voice gets ugly, spitting and spraying when he sings about the love of his friends. And note that the only love that could possibly reach him through this ugly voice is that of true friends or of a mother - like they say of ugly faces. And note how the song shifts from all his bearings into the desperate rage of uncertainty. Note the drums and the urgency that sets in and how it builds up to the breaking of Conor's voice and the second hit of the orchestra, just to calm down a little, fall down in the dying trumpets (are those trumpets?) and how everything rises again driven by Conor's desperate, helplessly imploring, rock-bottom cry for meaning into the last and final - finally - staggeringly engulfing full hit of the orchestra and the tragedy of all this because there is no meaning. There is no truth.
