Terrence Malick's Genesis: Days of Heaven

[Raiders]

http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2065/1619050811_6dc710adbe.jpg

Everyone already knows the Deuteronomy passage that apparently lent itself to the title of the film. Its reference is to the bountiful days that await the fathers' sons and children as promised by the Lord as they live their lives as if heaven on earth. Of course, this is only a good promise as long as God's children do not stray from his blessings. Once outside the realm of God's love and providence, these days will be brought to the ground and a plague, God's wrath, will be reaped upon the Earth.

So it is that Bill and Abby, lovers playing siblings, should happen upon the land of the farmer. They are on the run from Bill's accidental murder of his foreman back in a Chicago factory. You could say it was the film's original sin, shot in a scene of agonizing fire and sound, muffling the human folly on display. They come to work the farm, to make a living. There is a shot as they enter this land that separates them from the known world: a train passes across an impossible tall bridge set against the sky.

Reason is not directly given for their lie about their relationship, but allow me to point to a different Biblical story: that of Abraham and Sarah. The story goes that as they entered Egypt, Abraham was frightened that if it was discovered such a lovely woman was his wife, he might be murdered and her taken from him. In the film, the lie is used as a means of separating the two characters, allowing for the attraction of the farmer to appear unchallenged. As with Abraham, Bill's own desires and fears drive him to whore his lover off; Abraham for self-preservation, Bill for a dream of no longer living in poverty.

In Genesis, Pharaoh is smitten with Sarah, and takes her for his wife. Therefore he spares Abraham and keeps him on, providing for him as his wife is Abraham's sister. But soon the Lord became angry at Abraham for his deceptions, and afflicted the Pharaoh's land with plagues. Pharaoh became angry at Abraham, questioned him about his relationship with Sarah, and Abraham and Sarah were banished from the land.

The film very much follows this storyline, but the differences, mainly after the farmer's (Pharaoh) discovery of the lie, are key in understanding the film's philosophy as opposed to the Bible's. Malick does not absolve his characters so easily, nor is he as easy to forgive as the Lord. Throughout, the land has looked on unsympathetically, dwarfing the characters in their own purgatory. The majority of the dialogue is the deadpan narration of the 13 year-old younger sister of Bill, played by Linda Manz. It is her conscience that drives the film, and we get the sense that unlike your typical cinematic innocence, she isn't particularly young in her vision of the world. It is likely telling she narrates events she wasn't even present for. Does she intuit, or fully fabricate, the death of the farmer and his realization of the deceit? As she states, "you are half angel and half devil," and she isn't absolved of this.

But then I think of the title and wonder where do I find this? In the middle section? No, here the characters are merely on borrowed time, waiting for the Lord and the land's wrath, waiting for their deception to catch up to them. I believe Malick never shows us these days, but in Linda's final scenes and in her closing dialogue, I think he presents hope, but not the kind God is promising. Rather, it is hope in the unknown and uncertainty of the future. I like to think she is going off to experience the days of heaven, free from the petty and the deception; off to find something of her own.

For years I have berated this film for its muted tones, for its failure to make any of the characters alluring enough to drive its story. But seeing it again, I was wrong. Malick isn't driving a story, but a feeling. The characters feel like mere images and specks against the lanscape of nature. They are objects of confusion. Nature is easier, it doesn't lie or cheat. Late in the film, Linda comments on people along the shore that "it was far off and you couldn't see what they were doing. They were probably calling for help or something--or they were trying to bury somebody or something." People confound, and it is nature that keeps us honest. The plagues that strike the land; Hell's emergence into the serenity; the distance put up between people; the wind's howling at sight of deceit; all these things point to a force simultaneously more complex and yet more simplistic than humanity.

In the end, God forgave Abraham, but Malick, and in particular Linda, do not forgive Bill. His death shows him attempting to save himself, leave them behind. When he is shot, Linda can only quip "Nobody's perfect." Indeed, we have all sinned, but some of us can look to the future, and can offer a prayer or thought about others. Linda's caring thoughts to the farmer's death show her as being compassionate beyond the rest of the petty characters. And he final lines, "I was hopin' things would work out for her. She was a good friend of mine," give her and the film a warmth and intimacy almost completely missing before. The future looks brighter indeed.

[Duncan]

It's one of the absolute best and gets better every time I watch it. Good review.

[Watashi]

First viewing?

Wait, nevermind.

[lovejuice]

i like your analysis. i myself will never come up with a biblical interpretation, being a buddhist. it offers me a new way to look at this favorite film. i always think of HEAVEN in term of shakespearian viewpoint -- especially othello.

[Bosco B Thug]

Yeah, Matz's character is wonderfully enigmatic. I liked the final line, too, in that it finally gives her a personalized statement of affect instead of detached (if compassionate) observations. The way she's presented before then, it was hard to imagine what she'd be like when she's older and dealing with her own personal problems (or ecstasies).

Great film, wonderfully written review. I like the God of the Bible vs. Malick/emotional man vs. nature idea.

[Raiders]

I am amazed that Malick was allowed two years to edit this. I think it really shows in the end result. The flow of the film feels so perfect. Unlike both of his two recent films, both of which are still amazing works, there isn't any fat to this film nor does anything seem to repeat itself. Where in his two recent films everything feels very elliptical, here I would say it is much more forward. He was able to craft the exact film he wanted, and I am fascinated that he took lengthy scenes of dialogue and excised practically all of it. The scenes featuring dialogue exist in two forms: short, brief moments and moments completely drowned out by the peripheral noise, typically machines (man's own inventions stifling his expression?). Those short moments barely even register, and I can just see the image of Malick and his editor sitting in a room and keeping only the necessary dialogue to drive forward the plot while allowing practically all emotion to be reflected in the landscapes and visuals. It only furthers Malick's natural inclination as a very ephemeral director, his temporal decisions often are guilty of eavesdropping, so to speak. In this way, he is similar to a director like Altman in that he is more an artist who does not construct scenes as much as he does moments, floating in and out of conversations, and sometimes these moments float in midair, detached from the surrounding moments. The scenes inside the farmer's bedroom feel particularly isolated, and it seems no coincidence they are almost always shown with an establishing shot from outside the mansion with the light of the room sitting above the earth almost like an angelic loft. I think I'm already beginning to consider this Malick's masterpiece.

[Izzy Black]

I am not so sure Malick is as optimistic about the future as you might suggest. I did not get the impression of a hopeful future with the final scenes, but more of an ambivalence, and yes, uncertainty, and perhaps, the beginning of a new cycle in life. I consider this to be much of Malick's approach. The "days of heaven," as it were, are the days of fleeting happiness they all experienced together in that ever so temporal moment of deceptive bliss, but like all things, that passes. This is why Malick so attentively shows us the passing of the seasons, just as the moods and conditions of the lifestyles change with the characters.

Good write up. I like the remarks about the film's ambiguities, particularly this line:

"The characters feel like mere images and specks against the landscape of nature. They are objects of confusion. Nature is easier, it doesn't lie or cheat."

This feels accurate to me.

[Robby P]

Glad to see you finally came around! I was always bewildered why you didn't like this one. Seemed right up your alley.

Anyways, nice write-up. Still my favorite movie, I think.

[Briare]

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/5/52/Lethbridge_Viaduct1.jpg/800px-Lethbridge_Viaduct1.jpg

One of my favorite things about the film was seeing places I grew up around. There's the bridge from the beginning of the film. In Lethbridge, Alberta.

One of the many reasons why I loved the movie. Awesome review, nice to see you gave it another chance.

[Amnesiac]

I watched this for the first time tonight and it has left quite the mark on me. I must say that I regret having waited this long to view it.

There is no doubt in mind that Morricone's score is truly top-tier material. I do regret having first heard the score in the recent The Curious Case of Benjamin Button trailer. Regardless, it is incredibly effective towards establishing the elegiac tone of the film. Highly memorable and a joy to listen to.

I also really liked your review, Raiders.



It only furthers Malick's natural inclination as a very ephemeral director, his temporal decisions often are guilty of eavesdropping, so to speak. In this way, he is similar to a director like Altman in that he is more an artist who does not construct scenes as much as he does moments, floating in and out of conversations, and sometimes these moments float in midair, detached from the surrounding moments.

Yes. The elliptical narrative is tremendously effective. Likening it to eavesdropping seems particularly apt.

To me, the editing of the film truly emphasized the mundane spirit of the day-to-day life in those wheat fields. And in a larger and more significant sense, the strain and listlessness of the turn-of-the-century proletariat.

Malick evokes sentiments of weariness and nebulosity by means of his assured use of ellipsis. Malick entices us to watch (and feel) these characters become swept up by the burden, strain and weight of time -- as well as the enormity of the land itself. Their actions begin to feel pre-determined, or at the very least unimportant, in the face of this epic landscape and the somber score which accompanies it. There is the distinct feeling that small eternities are passing away in the little isolated piece of land which the characters of Days of Heaven covet. It is in this mass of land where we watch these characters fumble with feelings of love, desperation, restlessness, anger, malaise, repression, greed. A plethora of emotions and sentiments swirling in and out of a variety of characters who are ultimately at the mercy of a vast expanse of unsympathetic land and the solemn passage of time.

In grand epics such as these, with an abundant use of extreme-long-shots of the open horizon, one is often left to watch as whatever turmoil and hardship our characters endure become utterly hopeless or petty. Indeed, the characters become mere specks in the the face of this prodigious land, which is captured beautifully by Malick, Néstor Almendros and Haskell Wexler. A nature which is neither malign nor benign, but entirely muted to the fickle emotions of it's inhabitants. Herein, the characters of Days of Heaven almost seem hopelessly insignificant from the start.

And then there is Linda, most assuredly the film's gravitational pull, who is almost as uninvolved with the film's events as the land itself. She is a shrewd voyeur who quietly observes desperation, lust, regret and a flurry of conflicting human emotions which, to her, are sapped of their fury and intensity -- and have become as mundane and predictable as the swaying of the field.