December 2, 2005

Terry Malick has long been the emotional answer to the intellectual Kubrick. As Kubrick's intellect led to great emotion, Malick's emotionalism leads to deep, intellectual consideration. But there is a singular mastery in the work of both men. And The New World is no exception.

The film doesn't open for another three weeks and it wouldn't be shocking if it changed again before opening day. (As best I can tell, about seven minutes were cut from the version I saw on Thursday from the cut screening ten days earlier.)

But whatever the cut, it was me who had to catch up - or slow down - to the work of this master. Even at 2:35 with credits, not a frame of The New World feels excessive... at least the second time around.

The film works on two levels. On the surface, it is the story of Pocahontas, whose name is never spoken in the film. (Later on, she takes on the name Rebecca, which has the aural quality of a lash from a whip.) The film starts from the perspective of John Smith, but it really is her story. On the second level, it is the story of all of us who live in "the new world." It is the story of choices and our natures and the fear and passion of both the new and the comfortable. It is, to a great degree, about the pain and treachery of assimilation.

It is the story of the trees and the brooks and the sound of a small chop on the lake. It is the story of freedom through giving up pretense. Anything is possible. Nothing is real. But why must we be encumbered by the details of life if, by releasing them, we can be perfectly happy?

(I was shocked, after writing about Brokeback Mountain the day before seeing The New World again, how the two films felt reflective of one another. Both are about love affairs that the world cannot accept… that could lead to death. In the end, the messages are quite different, but it makes for an interesting contrast nonetheless.)

Without giving away anything not already in the books, this is the story of the "modern" world coming into the realm of the natural (one great touch is that the "Indians" are never referred to as "Indians" or even "natives," but rather "Naturals"... until the English start calling them "savages"), being seduced by the majesty of it all, coming to terms with the reality of its structures and limitations, all the while trying to do what's "right" for the newly found thing you love.

The love between Pocahontas and John Smith is, at least symbolically, the only chance for these two societies to live in harmony. Both are natural rebels. But more importantly, both are open to accepting change. She is more open than he, as women often are. And in the world of men - which is where this movie almost exclusively takes place - things seems to always lead to someone needing killing or punishing or control.

As a man of war and of the world, Smith knows that there is no answer to a future for these two tribes, especially after he comes to know - and in some cases, love - the Naturals. At first, he thinks that the Naturals are above possession, beyond pettiness. But they are human. And they are led by men. It doesn't take long before the Naturals realize that they will have to drive the English into the sea if they will not leave of their own accord.

The couple blends. The couple bends. But unlike each of their "families," they want to give and take to and from one another to form something greater. Those around them want to take and take and ultimately, take some more. It is never about mutuality.

There I little doubt that Malick leans to the Naturals side of the fight, but he avoids dogma with the skill of a bullfighter. The first shot is fired by the English. But Malick doesn't spend any time taking us to that moment or considering it. It is just a fact, because Malick knows (I think) that there is not a lot of insight in those kinds of details. It takes two to have a fight. And once the Naturals make up their minds that they have no choice but to force the invaders out of "the new world," they are more aggressive (and smarter) than the newcomers.

The two lovers are experiencing change on parallel tracks. Smith is captured by and they embraced by the Naturals. Just as John Smith baptized with water into the world of the Naturals, Pocahontas is eventually literally baptized into English society.

They both speak of the things they hold inside that they can never share. His secret is that he knows the way of the white man and that he is somehow inescapably one of them. Hers is her love of this man who embodied all that she once was.

He seems to know early on, however we movie viewers choose to parse it, that he and his will inevitably be involved in killing at least some of Pocahontas' tribe as a cost of staying in "the new world" and not having his tribe slaughtered. So even though he finally finds his peace in Pocahontas arms and tall flowing grass, the inevitable ugly end makes staying in this relationship intolerable, even if it is his only peace.

And that is the heart of the piece. Everything else stems from that. Pocahontas becomes Rebecca. She marries and has a child of her own. In the end, she truly accepts her assimilation into the English world… and promptly dies. And the future comes, as we know it has.

Malick's work here is , as ever, amazing. He just plain sees image and idea and sound in a different way than anyone else making films. You see people reach for it now and again, but Malick's daring is both outrageous and calming.

Emmanuel "Chivo" Lubezki has now become one of the most muscular cinematographers in the game, from his work with Alfonso Cuaron to Tim Burton to Michael Mann to last year's go with Brad Silberling, Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events, there are few more masterful handlers of light and color. This will be Lubeski's third Oscar nomination in the last decade.

Colin Farrell is solid in his role here. The New World is often a silent film. There is not a word of dialogue in the first 10 minutes of the movie. (The first words? "Let him go.") Farrell is the physical embodiment that Malick was looking for, though when Christian Bale arrives, you're hard pressed not to wonder whether he would have been a better choice in the part. Thing is, Farrell does very little to fill the frame except be, which really works.

Christian Bale is a terrific actor, but he is kind of miscast here. Ben Chaplin, who turns up in a classic why-did-he-even-show-up-for-that cameo, might have been a better choice to represent gentle acceptance. Bale is at his best when churning.

And Q'Orianka Kilcher is one of those remarkable finds that we may never see again in a film. She brings a lack of emotional restraint that causes you to fall for her from the very first moments you meet her. It is not a particularly sexual thing - and the movie, while at times sensual, is very non-sexual - but a simple embrace of the infectious joy of another person. It's hard to define in terms of acting. It is being. And it is lovely.

Can we live with others? Can we love simply? Is it bravery when we drawn to what will hurt us? Can we survive giving up what we are for something more?

If you allow yourself to feel The New World, you will have an experience like nothing else that cinema has to offer. And yes, that's a very good thing.

E-ME.