Old Time Religion in The Tree of Life
The Tree of Life is an American masterwork, despite its simplistic, cowardly embrace of Christian meaning as an answer to the inciting incident /question: “How do we justify the death of a child? What meaning is there in death and loss?” The easy answers offered still don’t negate the fact that the film renders the quite specific dynamic between a father/son and family in a physical visual manner that is, quite simply, pure cinema.
— Mike S. Ryan, “THE TREE OF LIFE: Film Print vs. Digital Print”
Mike Ryan’s Hammer to Nail piece is ostensibly about the superiority of film projection to digital projection vis-a-vis his multiple encounters with The Tree of Life, but, as indicated in the excerpt above, he goes on to address aspects of the film that are as far from technical as you can get. The breadth certainly doesn’t offend me — I value Hammer to Nail in part because editor Michael Tully allows his writers (among whom I count myself) a lot of elbow room. However, when I linked to Ryan’s piece on Twitter, I took exception to two of his most prominent assertions, inadvertently igniting a marvelous, revelatory exchange between Ryan Stewart and Eli Daughdrill. This showdown, which I’ve reconstituted and preserved below, is Twitter at its late-night best. (Please bear with the abbreviations and idiosyncrasies that are necessitated by the limitations of that fleeting form.) In an unprecedented move I’ve opened the comments on this post, as I find these matters highly discussable. So let’s rumble.
Alejandro: A) I don’t know how you can like Tree of Life without embracing its Christianity; B) It looks better shown digitally.
Ryan: That’s one of the dumber pieces I’ve read lately. A ‘masterwork’ and ‘cowardly’ at the same time?
Eli: art can’t b profound & problematic? art not same as rhetoric
Eli: ‘Masterwork’ might b hyperbolic, but the response is valid. I embraced the imagery but cringed at the intended significance.
Ryan: No one with a command of English would call something a “masterwork” then attack it as “cowardly.” High praise and
Ryan: withering criticism can’t be offered up in virtually the same breath.
Ryan: The whole piece is sub-intellectual. No one with even a glancing knowledge of art history would attack a work of art for
Ryan: for having a religious dimension. Most of history’s great art is grounded in religious devotion.
Eli: yes, because the Church often commissioned much of that work. in a secular culture, removed from the demands of such a patronage
Eli: it would seem Malick, as intelligent as he is, might b willing & free 2 define nature of existence beyond these antiquated ideals
Eli: therein lies the disappointment. but author’s intent does not define art. spectator can reject intended meaning & find their own
Eli: or create their own profound meaning.
Ryan: He’s a religious man. This is known. He goes to church regularly. You find Christianity antiquated? Fine, but attacking what
Ryan: is essentially the *stated* meaning and making up your own is just a flight of fancy. Grapple with what it is there.
Eli: so the pleasure of camp & unintended meaning is only reserved for “trashy” fare? that seems rhetorically & intellectually specious.
Ryan: Teaching philo at MIT isn’t ’secular cred’ enough to abate your high-handed dismissiveness of his true artistic intention?
Eli: not dismissive of him at all; I think he is brilliant. But when one makes something that attempts to define nature of existence
Eli: & uses Christianity/god as the final arbiter, I think it quite reasonable to protest, while not rejecting the work as a whole. &
Eli: this debate over intent has long been hashed out. The author of a work has no more claim to its meaning than any spectator.
Ryan: The piece in question doesn’t object politely, it accuses the filmmaker of being a philosophical simpleton and then
Ryan: assures the reader that he (the writer) can appreciate it on a level that the filmmaker himself would find dubious. It’s a
Ryan: childish and transparent attempt by the writer to bend everything to his will. Better to be J. Hoberman and say “it sucks.”
Eli: think we’re getting away from real issue here; to me, M. Ryan’s review is perfectly reasonable, because it’s not beholden to false
Eli: binary (the either/or of good/bad) that plagues most film criticism.
Eli: Can one be moved by an image, or a sequence, without seeing God in it, as Malick intends us to?
Eli: Can one appreciate Kanye West while detesting the Misogyny of his lyrics?
Ryan: No articulation of any such alternative reading is presented in the piece in question. It’s a straight dismissal of the
Ryan: film’s obvious philosophical underpinnings followed immediately by out-of-nowhere blanket praise. And no, I wouldn’t listen
Ryan: to anything I found to be distractingly misogynistic. There’s a lot of music in the world without that problem.
Eli: fair enough. I think we are ultimately talking about two different things. U are attacking the prose, ethos, & rhetoric, while I am
Eli: reacting to (& perhaps reading into) the response. This is where the rhetoric of criticism often falls short; it often fails in
Eli: capturing/explaining the equivocations & contradictions because criticism/rhetoric must b consistent & cogent. art often isn’t.
Amity

First off, I’d like to mention that I really enjoyed reading this exchange on Twitter and appreciate that it’s now assembled here so that others can absorb it as a whole.
As someone who was raised Christian and attended parochial schools until my sophomore year of college, I am always fascinated with how religion in films is discussed by cinephiles, whether they be devote in their own religions, agnostics or atheists. Personally, I often look for not-necessarily-religious-at-all “big life meaning” in films, whether the filmmakers intended those kinds of interpretations to be made or not. Clearly, these types of discussions are right up my alley.
I disagree with Alejandro’s opening point that one must “embrace” The Tree of Life’s Christianity to like the film. I think it would be possible for someone to love ToL even as an atheist if one “forgave” the Christianity-based ideas presented. After all, as the GOP has taught us, many Christian values can be labeled “family values” and there are probably many “non-believers” who were moved by ToL’s fairly universal memories of distant dads, passive moms and push-pull sibling relationships.
I share Mike Ryan’s complaint that The Tree of Life is overly simplistic, but not in relation to details of Christianity or the afterlife, etc. It’s how Malick expressed himself so simplistically yet messily with imagery and editing that bothered me. I used this pejorative term on Twitter a few weeks ago, but I felt Malick was “spoon-feeding” the audience and acting like a Big Ole Self-Flattering Wise Guru in doing so. What he served up with the film as a whole was ultimately pablum and insulting to me as a film-goer.
I admire that Malick wanted to break things down to their essentials. I admire that he was so ambitious in his scope. I admire that he took such personal memories and personal beliefs and managed to strike some universal chords. What I don’t admire is the *how* (OK, well, I don’t admire 80% of the how — the first 25 minutes of ToL took my breath away).
I think Alejandro explained the problem with the “how” best in his Look of the Week #7 segment where he described that Malick had layered expressionism on top of impressionism. The impressionism was working for me. In those first 25 minutes of ToL, I was getting all the gut emotions and narrative details I needed in a flutter of gorgeous imagery and a gush of human experience. Then the Discovery Channel footage came and crushed the life out of all that impressionistic beauty that was letting the audience complete the emotional loops. Yep, the spoon came out and Papa Malick started dishing the mush, even resorting to CGI dinosaurs that were laughably Spielbergian in their very presence. Stalling the engine of the beauty he’d begun with, Malick then launches into the more straight-ahead family drama. All of that is fine and dandy, but outside of some lovely “sense memory” moments and child POV shots, it felt like a story we’ve seen and heard 100 times before.
By the time Sean Penn was encountering his younger self in the sands of time and the politically correct cast of extras were making footprints on the beach, I was stifling laughter. That’s not God’s fault, that’s Malick-Playing-God’s fault.