The Prodigy
If I was writing a review of The New World for some lousy magazine I’d probably entitle it ‘1607: A Nature Odyssey’, and think I was really goddamn clever. But the similarities are there, thanks in no small part to the soaring music. The opening scene, featuring the ominous image of the three ships, is worth the ticket price alone. Certainly I struggle to recall a more intense cinematic experience: this can’t be watched lightly. It reminded me of a debate we once had in a film class as to whether the narrative had in fact raped the essence of visual film and ‘got in the way’. Now of course I’m glad that mainstream cinema mainly caters for a story, two hours of beautiful but incoherent images is simply unfeasible. But Malick’s ability lies in going somewhere in the middle. There’s an almost surreal lack of dialogue (surreal because it’s more realistic?) and pure visuals drive the narrative, which itself is told so lucidly - the beginning and end of a scene are often swapped round - the effect is dreamlike. Which, for John Smith, is what meeting the painted Natives in a strange place feels like.
Many will mistake the pace as pretentious, but if you just forget what movies ’should’ be like then there’s an abundance of riches. See it on a big screen by yourself, friends will only be a distraction. And going to the cinema alone is so uncool it’s cool anyway.
I’m at the Waterfront, attending my second 20th in 2 days. Sadly this one doesn’t reach such great heights. I wish I could sustain my interest at clubs for more than half an hour, but it’s no use. It’s hard to tell if fatigue or genuine boredom came first, but at present both are feeding off one another. I’m getting old. Unfortunately disappearing isn’t an option as during the pub crawl I made the mistake of promising I’d leave with the group. The only alternative is to spend money fucking up my body even more and to sit in a corner looking too cool for school. Because then that really good-looking girl will see that I’m different, yes, different to EVERYONE else in the room because I’m not dancing… yeah, I’m mysterious and unique, and therefore interesting and attractive as fuck, and she’ll come over, take me by the arm and…
Vibration? A text. For no apparent reason whatsoever, my Mother’s threatening to visit in March. Why would she do that to me? The idea of two world’s colliding makes me uneasy. As the Natives must have felt. See? Like Pynchon I give a seemingly irrelevant occurrence context within its framework. I used to think I was talented, but I’m gonna have to go with prodigious from now on.
Many will mistake the pace as pretentious, but if you just forget what movies ’should’ be like then there’s an abundance of riches. See it on a big screen by yourself, friends will only be a distraction. And going to the cinema alone is so uncool it’s cool anyway.
I’m at the Waterfront, attending my second 20th in 2 days. Sadly this one doesn’t reach such great heights. I wish I could sustain my interest at clubs for more than half an hour, but it’s no use. It’s hard to tell if fatigue or genuine boredom came first, but at present both are feeding off one another. I’m getting old. Unfortunately disappearing isn’t an option as during the pub crawl I made the mistake of promising I’d leave with the group. The only alternative is to spend money fucking up my body even more and to sit in a corner looking too cool for school. Because then that really good-looking girl will see that I’m different, yes, different to EVERYONE else in the room because I’m not dancing… yeah, I’m mysterious and unique, and therefore interesting and attractive as fuck, and she’ll come over, take me by the arm and…
Vibration? A text. For no apparent reason whatsoever, my Mother’s threatening to visit in March. Why would she do that to me? The idea of two world’s colliding makes me uneasy. As the Natives must have felt. See? Like Pynchon I give a seemingly irrelevant occurrence context within its framework. I used to think I was talented, but I’m gonna have to go with prodigious from now on.