Trite family dramatics linked with nothing less than the creation of the universe in the single most pretentious English language film ever made. Nods to Kubrick and Tarkovsky only highlight the banality of Malick's story and methods. All of Malick's worst habits (those whispered voiceovers) are amplified to an unprecedented degree. Basically, take everything that ever annoyed about Terrence Malick, and crank it to 11.
Some radiantly beautiful cinematography, to be fair -- there's no denying the astonishing beauty of the film. And there's no denying Malick's sincerity, clearly this film is a labor of love, a deeply personal film. But the banality of the story (such as it is, and there's not much) and the attempt to elevate it into cosmic dimensions make for some extreme and unintended silliness, and Brad Pitt's unfortunate attempt at a performance doesn't help matters.
Now don't get me wrong. I've got nothing against elevating the everyday into cosmic significance. Some of my favorite works of art are about elevating the everyday into cosmic significance -- Thornton Wilder's OUR TOWN for example does all of that without descending into the overheated inanities of intensely whispered voiceovers like "Father! Mother! Always you wrestle inside me!"
"If they can get you asking the wrong questions, they don't have to worry about the answers." Thomas Pynchon, GRAVITY'S RAINBOW
"Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away." Philip K. Dick
My blog: http://www.roscoewrites.blogspot.com/