FOX SEARCHLIGHT PICTURES
âEvery leaf, every ray of lightâ
Return to hope with âThe Tree of Lifeâ
by Michael J. Casey
âSomeday weâll fall down and weep, and weâll understand it all. All things.â âMr. OâBrien, The Tree of Life
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or two weeks every May, the world of cinema turns to the beaches of Southern France as the Cannes Film Festival takes the stage of Le Grand Palais. Under normal circumstances, this weekend would mark the conclusion of the 73rd Cannes Film Festival with the announcements of the Palme dâOr, the festivalâs top prize. But, for the umpteenth time, there is nothing normal about 2020. Cannes, like everything else, has been canceled. A year with no Cannes feels like a year with no cinema. In the past, the festival has announced revolutions of the moving image, reassessed the legacy of overlooked titans, and turned art into commerce and commerce into art. And those that leave Cannes with a Golden Palm in hand immediately become essential viewing. Many past Palme winners stand tall (see page 20 for more), but few have been as transcendent and memorable as 2011âs recipient, The Tree of Life. Written and directed by Terrence Malick, The Tree of Life â streaming on HBO Now and DirecTV â is a watershed moment in contemporary cinema. Pairing the impressionistic poetry of cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki, the abstract visual effects of Douglas Trumbull, the concrete reality of production designer Jack Fisk and elliptical storytelling, The Tree of Life is simultaneously micro and macro, the story of everything told in a single blade of grass. Or a simple 22
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American family of five, the OâBriens, living in suburban Texas circa 1956. Jack (Hunter McCracken) is the eldest of the three boys, sons of the demanding and exacting Mr. OâBrien (Brad Pitt), a man cut from the Old Testament cloth. Mr. OâBrien lives with many rules and little mercy. He expects much of his family, but he expects more of himself. He never misses a day of work and tithes on Sundays. Years ago, he practiced countless hours in hopes of being a concert pianist, but it was not to be. Now he holds over two dozen patents, yet no one praises him an inventor. When the industrial plant heâs worked at for decades folds, he is offered either a job no one wants or no job at all. And where the father leads, the son follows â not by choice, but by inevitability. Jack grows up to be an architect (played by Sean Penn) and sulks about with equal remove. âIâm more like you than her,â the son tells his father. Her is Mrs. OâBrien (Jessica Chastain), and she is life. Her sons adore her, butterflies rest on her hands and at one point she floats playfully near a tree. Sheâs more spirit than person, a real-life Snow White representing everything Mr. OâBrien isnât. âThere are two ways through life,â she says, âThe way of nature and the way of grace.â Malick chooses grace but understands natureâs importance. From the formation of the universe, hot and violent, to the evolution of the species, varied and magnificent, Malickâs script races fiercely through time. Eons collapse into minutes, and entire movements are sugMAY 21, 2020
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FOR MORE ON âThe gested by moments: Cells Tree of Lifeâ and past separating, molten lava Palme dâOr winners, breaking free and forming tune into Metro Arts islands, an act of mercy on KGNU, Friday at 3 p.m. (88.5 FM, 1390 between predator and prey, AM and online at obliteration at the hands of kgnu.org). something otherworldly. Moments echoed in the OâBriensâ personal lives: A father who is more threat than parent, a mother who is more guide than protector. In the filmâs most moving scene, the boys come home to find that Mr. OâBrien is away. Now they rule the roost, free to run around the house screaming and slamming the screen door as hard as they want. Mrs. OâBrien rolls her eyes, but even she cannot help but be moved to play. The camera glides and François Couperin piano music elevates the image to something more than just a movie. âHelp each other,â Mrs. OâBrien whispers on the soundtrack. âLove everyone. Every leaf, every ray of light. Forgive.â I first saw The Tree of Life in 2011, not long after the movie won the Palme dâOr at Cannes. I knew nothing of the film beyond the win and that it had dinosaurs in it. Frankly, it could have been about anything and I still would have gone: My wifeâs friend had died unexpectedly that morning. The two were close, and neither got a chance to say goodbye. It was a warm summer day, but the world felt cold, cruel and without order. Two-and-a-quarter hours later, I emerged from the dark warm and full. Not everything is meant to make sense, and the secrets of the universe will probably never be revealed. But there is order there, somewhere, and thatâs enough. We may be alone today, but someday we will be with all the world. BOULDER COUNTYâS INDEPENDENT VOICE