by Leah Schroeder ’13

Cinematography-wise, it was magnificent, but conceptually, there still aren’t words to express the full extent of my persisting confusion.

Terrence Malick’s “The Tree of Life,” simply left me, and the rest of the audience, perplexed and slightly disturbed. Even now, I’m not entirely sure what the plot was. There is a 1950s family headed by a disciplinarian father (Brad Pitt) and a meek mother (Jessica Chastain). They have three sons, one of which dies, straining the already troubled relationship among the family members. In present day, the eldest son, Jack (Sean Penn) seems lost and confused without his younger brother, so it seems as though he goes searching for him.

It begins with a colorful ball of light. Then there is a whispered monologue as a montage of action occurs. Then the earth is violently and quite dramatically formed. Then there are some dinosaurs that lead us full circle back to another ball of light. After a half an hour of watching light, you think that you are finally going to get into the story and finally get some dialogue, but no, instead you get to watch birds in the sky, jellyfish in the ocean, a crevice in a mountain and a forest of trees. Don’t get me wrong, Malick’s cinematography was absolutely spectacular as it is a method unlike any other, effectively using nature shots to portray emotion. But I didn’t pay to watch Disney’s “Earth” and this technique failed to advance the story of this plot-less movie. Or at least I don’t think there is a plot.

The film doesn’t seem to be about the characters or their lives, but rather about religion and finding faith in the mess of a world we live in. For me, all of the religious references went over my head, but there are in such abundance and are so seemingly unnecessary to the overall story that I was made seriously uncomfortable. The frequent talks about “Father” were some of the worst.

Pitt gives an impressive performance, portraying a character that while disliked by his family, obviously loves his kids and simply does not know how to portray his emotions. His kids on the other hand, are creepy. Jack is desirous of hurting everyone around him. He puts his younger brothers in risky situations and wishes for his father’s death on multiple occasions. In this case, that does not result in a compelling character.

Everything about this movie is self-indulgent from how it is filmed to the voices that never rise above a whisper and are often masked by the intense classical music. In theory, this movie could have been more. It could have further developed the adult Jack to show how his less than stellar childhood affected him and how his choice to rediscover his childhood, as he seems to be doing via flashback, improves his life and allows him to be happier. Instead, it seems like a home movie depicting life events for no real rhyme or reason.

I’m not sure what the qualifications are for Palme d’Or, the highest prize awarded at the Cannes Film Festival, but if it’s for artistic merit, I can understand why this film received it. It is not a movie, but rather a work of art, meant to be appreciated, but not understood. For that, I commend the judges at Cannes. But I go to the movies to be entertained, to be enthralled and to be inspired. This film does none of these things. Simply put, it is two hours of bizarre that you quickly want to forget ever seeing.