I’m aware of how lame this point sounds/is. But just hear me out for a minute. One of the things art is meant to do is express things that we’re not super good at expressing in words. That’s what it’s there for. It’s like a kind of body language but formed externally. Entertainment also serves this purpose to an extent, and the line between art and entertainment is thinner than we realize, often. So I’m not even going to try to make a great distinction between the two. It’s clear that Jersey Shore is tapping into something as innate as The Thin Red Line intends to tap into, even if those innate things are strikingly different. The point is, if something is more richly expressed in words, if writing out an idea is more effective in getting that idea across than turning it into a song or a poem or a painting or a movie, then it ought to be written.
But there are some things that act upon us when we see them that we can’t really describe in a satisfying way. And Malick may, especially in his most recent work, capture these visual moments better than anyone else. So when I say spiritual, I really mean non-verbal, or maybe non-rational, or emotional, or something. You can see how easily it is for words to sometimes fall short of the point you’re trying to get across. One of the ways I was able to start digging Terrence Malick instead of constantly trying to “get” him was by submitting to the idea that his impressionistic moviemaking is meant to do just that: imprint impressions on the viewer, that hopefully eventually coalesce into something unified and complete by the end. It doesn’t always happen but when you feel as though a movie, particularly one with a poetic or spiritual nature, comes together by the end, where everything makes sense, even though you can’t describe it properly to other people, it feels somehow other-worldly. I have too much respect for this encounter with the sublime to refer to it as “religious.”
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