The New World

Malick is a past master of celluloid poetry. Whoever tries to argue the otherwise should go back to watch The Fast and the Furious. What perfect imagery in this poem of love! His lens bring us claustrophobically close to Mother Nature that our pabulum and quotidian existences seem awfully trifling in comparison. The New World reminds me of Wender's Wings of Desire, only this time the narrators aren't drawling some turgid deep thoughts and the lyrical musings are administered in more manageable doses. Malick's artistic power goes beyond the quality of eyecandy as he touches on the nature of love and the love for nature. I was left speechless by Malick's magic loom as the credit rolled. Seriously though, those who find The Thin Red Line hard to swallow should excuse themselves from this one as the pace is even slower, and with a scarcity of dialogues, i can already hear people snoring.