A Hollywood screenwriter wanders the Californian landscape in an
existential fugue.
Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Terrence Malick
Starring: Christian Bale, Cate Blanchett, Natalie Portman,
Brian Dennehy, Isabel Lucas, Antonio Banderas, Freida Pinto, Wes Bentley,
Teresa Palmer, Imogen Poots
Much as we might hate to admit it, we all need a wise old authority figure to interrupt our fugue states every now and then, someone to redirect our paths. For the monotheists it's the priest, the rabbi, the imam. For the secular cinephile it's artists like Terrence Malick.
His latest, Knight of Cups, is filled
with lecturing, elderly authority figures - the protagonist's firm yet
fragile father, played by Brian Dennehy; Armin Mueller Stahl's
priest; an unidentified character who speaks lovingly of his redemptive time
in a monastery; God/Mother Nature him/herself - but ultimately it's Malick
delivering the lecture, like a grandfather taking you to the woods and
teaching you the names of the trees, and it's one I needed and
appreciated.
Malick presents us with a protagonist - Christian Bale's Hollywood screenwriter, Rick - who will either be viewed as a paper thin caricature of white male entitlement or a cypher-like spirit guide, depending on your willingness to indulge the filmmaker. It's easy to dismiss Rick as someone who just needs to 'get over it' and enjoy his life of opulence and impossibly beautiful lovers, but that's a dangerous and insensitive idea that borders on victim blaming; depression doesn't check its victims' bank balances. Neither Rick nor Malick are asking for our sympathy, merely our indulgence.
"You're not looking for love, merely a love experience," one of Rick's lovers tells him. Rick seems bound by artifice. We see him stroll contentedly through the fake city streets of a studio backlot and the tacky Vegas recreation of European capitals. He takes his lovers to places where man and nature buttress one another, Venice Beach, the end of the runway at LAX. When he wanders into the desert he becomes truly lost, his face as confused as a newborn.
While he's strayed from mainstream acceptance and critical appreciation, Malick is in the most profound and prolific period of his enigmatic career with this and its two predecessors, To the Wonder and The Tree of Life. Like life itself, I wouldn't dare to suggest what any of Malick's work means, but I know how it makes me feel, and I hope I can continue to enjoy it for a long, long time.
Knight of Cups is on MUBI UK
now.