A Master’s Misfire
A review of To the Wonder.

Ben Affleck and Rachel McAdams in <I>To the Wonder</I> (Redbud Pictures)


Terrence Malick’s To the Wonder, his follow-up to the rapturous and rapturously reviewed Tree of Life, has been treated unkindly by the critics, and I’m sorry to say that it deserves that treatment. I had hoped, before seeing it, that the reactions to Malick movies simply moved in cycles, and that the new film was facing a backlash only because Tree of Life had earned so much praise — much as Malick’s The New World, a true masterpiece, was underrated by critics who had overpraised The Thin Red Line a few years earlier.

But no, this time the complainers have it right. With To the Wonder, the master has delivered a work whose beauty is the beauty of surfaces, with no clear way into the depths that it aspires to plumb.

Those depths, as always with Malick, have to do with God and nature, doubt and belief, sin and grace, suffering and transcendence. But his chief preoccupation this time is love — the love of men and women in the foreground, and then the divine love that our human loves both resemble and fall short of.

The falling short is, for the most part, what happens to the main characters, Neil (Ben Affleck) and Marina (Olga Kurylenko), who meet in Paris, become enraptured with each other on a luminous trip to Mont St. Michel, and then decamp, along with her daughter from a previous marriage, for the wide expanses and subdivisions of Oklahoma. There things crumble, slowly: They live in half-furnished homes where suitcases are always open, her daughter wearies of the States and pines for la belle France, they fight and he withdraws from her, and the transcendence of their romance survives only in fragments of memory, shards of vanished time.

There is another woman, a rancher played by Rachel McAdams, as blonde and American as Kurylenko’s Marina is dark and European. She may be an old flame of Neil’s, and he takes up with her while Marina makes what proves to be a temporary return to France. There is a priest to whom Marina goes for counsel, played by Javier Bardem, who is struggling with his own crisis of faith, feeling Jesus’s love slip from him as he tries to minister to his congregation and to the poor. And as always with Malick, there is the extraordinary beauty of the everyday, offering intimations of eternity not only in prairies and rivers, but in ranch houses and fast-food parking lots as well.

All of this may be autobiographical, as was some of the family drama in Tree of Life. (Malick had a temporary ’70s romance with a Frenchwoman, and is now married to his former high-school flame.) It’s certainly meant to be Christian, in a more explicit way than some of Malick’s earlier films (though never a didactic one). His vision of the sacred now feels more sacramental than pantheistic, and where Tree of Life evoked Genesis and Job, To the Wonder reaches more often for the New Testament.

May 6, 2013    |     Volume LXV, No. 8

Special Defense Section
Books, Arts & Manners
  • Jay Nordlinger reviews Roger Ailes: Off Camera, by Zev Chafets.
  • Richard Brookhiser reviews The Village: 400 Years of Beats and Bohemians, Radicals and Rogues: A History of Greenwich Village, by John Strausbaugh.
  • Abigail Thernstrom reviews Intellectuals and Race, by Thomas Sowell.
  • Robert VerBruggen reviews Why Are Professors Liberal and Why Do Conservatives Care?, by Neil Gross.
  • John Daniel Davidson reviews Big, Hot, Cheap, and Right: What America Can Learn From the Strange Genius of Texas, by Erica Grieder.
  • Ross Douthat reviews Terrence Malick’s To the Wonder.
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Happy Warrior  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .