If you somehow stumbled upon this blog and are expecting another glowing review of Tree of Life you are about to be disappointed. Actually, you are about to be disappointed and then enraged off as I literally rip this movie apart. So, straighten your beret, brush the dust off your hip, skin tight black shirt (that is probably one size smaller than it should be), and get out while you still can.
Let's begin.
Before we get into my "analysis" of the film I want to begin with how I became aware of it. I was sitting in a movie (I do not know which) with my girlfriend when it came time for the trailers. I love trailers. I get to see what's on deck, and in some cases get the hype gland pumping over something I cannot wait to see. This time however, I was greeted with The Tree of Life. At the end of the trailer I had no idea what I had just witnessed, I couldn't form a plot - I just knew that it looked interesting and hey it had Brad Pitt in it, he isn't bad. My girlfriend looked over and nudged me, nodding slightly - the preview had passed through her judgement filter and a positive result had occurred. I let out a small sigh, there would be no escaping it now - oh well. I'm sure it will end up being good.
Wrong.
Fast forward to present day - to be accurate about a few weeks ago. My roommates, my girlfriend, and I were all trying to decide on a movie to go see. The Hangover 2 was a possibility, but we decided against it - seeing as it was just a cash grabbing sequel. We had nearly let the idea of going to a movie drop when, to my dismay, I heard the words - "Wait! What about The Tree of Life? I hear the reviews for it are amazing!"
Thus it was decided, we piled into the car, drove to the theater, and were greeted by multiple sold out showings. It was at this point that my roommate and his girlfriend decided to just head home instead of waiting over and hour for the next sold out showing. I was not so lucky however, so, off we wandered to a book store to waste time.
Around 10 o'clock it was time for our showing, so we grabbed our seats in the completely packed viewing area and prepared to be transported to an Oscar worthy film scape where we could let our inner film douchebag loose! Right?
I'm going to warn you. We didn't stay for the whole movie. If there is some radiant resolution that made the experience worth it we were not there for it. We lasted through about half of the film which, in hindsight, was a miracle in itself.
The film opens with a small family reeling from the loss of a child. Sad stuff.
That is the only part of the movie that made sense. The first 10 minutes. Seriously.
From here you are transported through something I can only compare to a fever dream of symbolism and pretentious bullshit.
Anyhow, their son dies. Next you would expect to see their little family suffering and pulling together to make it through such a catastrophic event. Everyone pulls out their tissues and then suddenly.....OPERA MUSIC AND SHOTS OF SPACE. For nearly 15 minutes. Nebulae, stars, planets, and other cosmic formations parade around the screen to some lady warbling in the background.
Alright, fine. I don't know what is going on but hey, it's pretty. I'll deal.
Then it happened. The film cut to a wounded CG dinosaur laying on a beach. Yeah. Let that settle in.
Really? A fucking dinosaur? At this point I began fearing for my sanity. That my last vestiges of mental competency had crumbled, but to my relief someone in the row in front of me snorted in laughter. This was actually happening.
From here we are treated to a scene wherein some younger dinosaurs are playing by a river, suddenly a slightly larger dinosaur approaches. It leaps upon one of the young reptiles and pins it to the ground with its foot. They share a long look, then the bigger dinosaur walks away.
My fingers dig into the fabric of my seat. People around me gasp in understanding. Their eyes tear up. They are fundamentally changed. The bedrock of their minds is shifting. Have they ever actually seen a "movie" before this? Is this the pinnacle of human art? To them, it is. They have seen the very source of human creation and are forever altered.
Next to me my girlfriend begins laughing. She whispers in my ear - "Why did we pay 25$ to watch Planet Earth in a theater?" She is right, the only thing I expect to hear from this point on is Sigourney Weaver discussing the mating habits of these dinosaurs.
Fury wells up from within, I am witness to a film student somehow procuring millions of dollars to show me his senior thesis. I cannot shake the feeling that some dick wearing a stained Nirvana shirt is screaming the word ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT into my face.
The scene shifts to shots of the ocean. There are waves and baby sharks involved. What is going on? Why am I here? My girlfriend barely stifles another laugh - "The Oscar for best actor in a film goes to...The Galaxy! With The Ocean nabbing best supporting actor!"
I look over, my tortured look says it all. Can we please leave. Please? Please? PLEASE? She glances around. "I don't want to be rude...but yeah this is goddamn awful." I grimace and settle back into my seat. By this point the movie has cut back to ACTUAL PEOPLE INSTEAD OF DINOSAURS so maybe it'll find the plot and get rolling.
The mother then starts flying around for no apparent reason. My girlfriend nudges me - "Nope, never mind. I don't care, let's get the fuck out of here." We stand up and begin sliding down our row of seats, breaking line of sight for those we pass in front of. Their scolding looks say it all - "How dare you leave during such a masterpiece of human ingenuity!" Heads turn to regard us with derisive sneers.
I chuckle to myself, because they have no idea what the fuck is going on either.
I do not know how the movie ends, I do not care how it ends. Why? Well, I'll tell you.
This movie is the Big Momma's House of pretentious film. It is a pandering piece of shit that will win Oscars because the director uses a super special film filter that he made at home. Instead of milking money out of the masses of usual movie goers, this film set its sights on the pockets of the upper class snobbery.
I felt insulted. Symbolism is great, but when your entire movie is comprised of ONLY symbolism, and when there are actual PAPERS being written to wade through all of the artsy bullshit to interpret it for people who don't get it - I get angry.
I am not a genius. I am not the next great intellect that the population will look up to for guidance. There will be no gilded statues of me, but I am not an idiot - and making a film to make people feel like idiots makes you a bigger idiot.
Just because you can make social commentary does not make you the aspect-emperor of film creation. It makes you just like every other asshole, you just got lucky.
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