After watching what could possibly be one of the best films I have ever watched in The Tree of Life, I left paralyzed at what I witnessed. Albeit, I intermittently nodded off during the films final segments, I couldn't help but rejoice in the pornographic sensation I encountered while watching. If movies could shed their clothing -and believe me, they can- then The Tree of Life bares all. I'm certain that everyone in the theater, all but seven or so UC Irvine college students on summer break, felt as though they had just watched a family endure strenuous chances -those that potentially come to demolish an entire household- from outside a living room window, peeping in. Contrite, maybe. Pleasurable, definitely. And yet while I endeavored to translate the whispers emitted by the films central character, Jack, I couldn't help but feel exposed just as he.
But why do I feel this way? Does being exposed make you a more rounded person, a more complete human being? In committing mischievous acts, and disobeying his parents, Jack grinds hard against the fundamental construction of the American Family, which is what Bradd Pitt's character attempts to create. But sons are not created to follow their fathers, or at least in Western Culture, they tend to follow another path. The Mother's passive allegiance to her children reflects what love exists in the family continuity. Yet love is not continuous. And the perpetual feeling that destruction will exist at some point and is equally inevitable in the Earth's life, let alone human life, I and presumably those others in the theater watching the movie, feel as though all was for nought.... or at least to misunderstand a little bit more of this life.
