Movie Review: 'To The Wonder'

The release of a new Terrence Malick film is always something to pay attention to. Even for those that don’t view Malick the way many others (including myself) do, each entry into the auteur’s filmography furthers one of the more interesting careers in American cinema.

Since his 1973 debut Badlands, Malick has released five additional films over the past 40 years. This includes a 20-year absence before his return in 1998 with The Thin Red Line.

In large part because of this history, and his personal approach to filmmaking and the media, Malick has, perhaps rightfully, become known as somewhat of a recluse. Which is what makes his recent output all the more surprising. After finally releasingThe Tree of Life in 2011, Malick now releases To The Wonder after a Toronto Film Festival premiere last fall, and he apparently has another small handful of films currently in various stages of production. Whatever the reason for this sudden burst in productivity, yours truly isn’t complaining.

Calling Malick a divisive filmmaker would almost be redundant at this point, as his name has virtually become synonymous with the word. Anyone who has ever held any of the various common complaints regarding Malick’s work in the past will likely leave To The Wonder feeling as if they’ve been vindicated. In fact, To The Wonder is without question Malick’s most divisive film to date, and even though I don’t share the detractor’s opinions, I can understand them.

The film is no less abstract in its narrative construction, no less void of traditional dialogue, no less floating and sweeping in its camerawork, and certainly no less filled with images of characters interacting with nature. I’ve heard the term “self parody” thrown around. In all honestly, To The Wonder feels very much like the next logical step in the filmmaker’s career, nowhere near as drastic a departure from The Tree of Life as some would have you believe, and in many respects a companion piece.

In terms of narrative, To The Wonder can be described quite simply. But again, it’s worth noting that the film is not as concerned with traditional storytelling as it is with using the framework of a relatable story as a means of conveying Malick’s meditative, philosophical, and religious musings. We’re introduced to Neil (played by Ben Affleck) and Marina (Olga Kurylenko) during the early stages of their relationship as they frolic around Paris and the stunning island of Mont St. Michel. When Marina, with her daughter, follows Neil back to America, their relationship starts to deteriorate.

Neil is a quiet, closed-off individual and Marina is never quite comfortable in the foreign land. After a period of time, Marina returns to France, leaving Neil free to briefly rekindle a relationship with a woman from his past (played by Rachel McAdams). Marina eventually returns, leaving the two to confront the issues that caused their relationship to strain in the first place. Also involved in the story at various points throughout is Father Quintana (Javier Bardem), a local priest grappling with his faith as he attempts to remain stoic for his parishioners, many of whom desperately need him in their lives.

If most of this sounds, well, standard for a film about a relationship, it is, and I don’t believe that was unintentional. I also don’t believe it’s an accident that most of the characters and places are never named explicitly. It takes looking it up, for example, to learn that Ben Affleck’s character is named Neil. This malleability is part of the film’s larger purpose.

Terrence Malick has a way of visually evoking emotion in ways few others do. He’s able to find gracefulness and beauty in seemingly inconsequential occurrences, and more impressively during moments of heartbreak. Continuing a collaboration that began back in 2005 when Malick first paired with cinematographer Emanuel Lubezki for The New World (a collaboration that hit an unquestioned high point in The Tree of Life), Malick’s sweeping camera seems to view everything the way the human eye would. It hovers, floats, and confronts its subjects with what can only be described as a dreamlike intimacy. This dreamlike aesthetic gives us a narrative that while set in the present day constantly feels as if it’s being viewed through someone’s memory.

All of the characters, with Kurylenko’s Marina in particular, are similarly in constant motion. Her movements are the most noticeable as she appears to be dancing, both literally and figuratively, throughout. However, everyone in the film moves with importance. They move in relation to one another, and in relation to their surroundings as well. The characters primarily express themselves through their physical movements, with what little dialogue that does exist being of infrequent importance. As an example, with Marina constantly lingering around the edges of community events and even her own neighborhood, we don’t need her to tell us that she feels like an outsider in Oklahoma. In all honesty, To The Wonder might be equally effective as a silent film, only complemented by Hanan Townshend’s classical score.

Through prevalent voice over (not uncommon with Malick), the writer/director gives us his grand thematic questions about love and faith. While it’s true that in terms of narrative scope Wonder is smaller thanTree, it’s no less profound in the questions it asks, and may in fact be more relatable for many. It all depends on how broadly you view it – if you see the film as an intimate portrait of three or four specific people, it feels like it lacks that level of significance. But if you see the film as a more general meditation on love, both human and spiritual, it suddenly takes on far greater meaning. That Malick can’t answer the questions he posits is part of the beauty.

Many have criticized the dialogue and voice over in To The Wonder as being weak. These people like to isolate specific portions or lines in an attempt to ridicule Malick’s writing as silly. But such selective isolation does a disservice to work as a whole (I won’t go so far as to call it a cohesive whole, as the film does eschew traditional narrative structure often to the point of abstraction). How much sillier is it for Malick to ask “what is this love that loves us” than it was for Shakespeare to declare “love is not love” in his 116^th Sonnet? No, I’m not trying to evenly compare Terrence Malick to The Bard, and yes I took the Shakespeare line out of context. That was precisely the point.

Javier Bardem’s Father Quintana, while seemingly unimportant to the more immediate story of Neil and Marina’s romance, is in many ways the most vital character in the entire film. Not only does Bardem’s thematic arc arguably mirror both Marina and Neil to an extent, he acts as the conduit between the various forms of love that the film ponders, showing us that maybe a priest struggling with his faith asks the same questions that a devoted woman in a troubled relationship does. At times he speaks “to” Neil and Marina, and at times he seems to speak “as” them. Sometimes these occur simultaneously. And, when it’s all said and done, Father Quintana may also have the largest tangible impact on our more focused narrative, but I’ll leave that as one of the many subjective ambiguities in the film.

I think time, with the added benefit of subsequent viewings, will prove kinder to To The Wonder than much of the immediate reaction has been. Maybe the thing that I love most about Terrence Malick films is how deeply personal they often are. There’s no doubt that To The Wonder, as with The Tree of Life, is in many ways autobiographical, a self-reflection on events from Malick’s past. But it’s very possible that no two people will interpret the film the same, and I would never tell anyone that their views are wrong simply because they don’t coalesce with my own. There’s something amazing in being able to watch a film while feeling that the filmmaker is speaking directly to you.

His review of To The Wonder was the last one that Roger Ebert ever wrote, which couldn’t be more fitting. After immediately adding The Tree of Life to his ten favorite films of all time, Ebert was very positive onTo The Wonder as well. I’ll leave you with the closing of his review. As one might expect, Mr. Ebert was as poetic as ever: “There will be many who find "To the Wonder" elusive and too effervescent. They'll be dissatisfied by a film that would rather evoke than supply. I understand that, and I think Terrence Malick does, too. But here he has attempted to reach more deeply than that: to reach beneath the surface, and find the soul in need.”

10/11

To The Wonder is in limited release, and is also available on iTunes.