Terrence Malick is the definition of an auteur. He is also exhibit number one in why the auteur theory is not the be all and end all of film criticism. For though each of his films is clearly and distinctly his own, they all more or less fail in exactly the same ways. It doesn’t matter if the film is about soldiers in World War II or criminals in the 1950s Midwest or John Smith and Pocahontas, every Malick film is going to be exactly the same: lots of shots of nature and sun-dappled trees and grass as the characters look longingly at each other and speak in breathlessly whispered voiceover on the soundtrack.
The New World is more of the same from Malick. However, that being said, it is probably the most entertaining of his films. Despite it’s dreadfully slow pace (another Malick trademark) it doesn't go on and on without end or direction (like The Thin Red Line). It has a clear narrative with lives at stake and as such has some compelling moments of action and drama. And the story it tells, though well known, is nonetheless interesting.
Moreover, it is undeniable that Malick has a keen visual sense. There are plenty of breathtaking shots in this film. And he does a good job of conveying the wonder with which the Englishmen see the New World and, similarly, with which Pocahontas sees England. Both worlds are so lush and vibrant as to be like paradise.
But none of that takes away from the fact that, like all other Terrence Malick movies before it, The New World is dreadfully boring for long stretches. True there are moments of action and moments in which the plot is developing quickly. But those are clearly not the moments that Malick is interested in. No, he’d rather spend twenty minutes with Pocahontas and John Smith cavorting in the fields as the sun sets behind them and their voices speak about ridiculously pretentious nonsense in hushed voiceover. And that’s all well and good but it’s boring as hell. And those voiceovers, Christ, a grown man writes that nonsense and grown men are supposed to be entertained by it? I’d have been embarrassed to have written that in high school. And if someone had chanced to come upon it, I think I would have died of shame. To put it out there for all the world to see is just ridiculous, borderline laughable.
I’m really curious to know what this film looked like when it was in script form. I wonder how many pages it was. And I wonder if it made any sense. I can’t even tell what happened at the end of the film. Does Pocahontas die? Or does she return to the New World with John Smith? I can’t tell.
In the end, I guess the film is as good as your tolerance for meandering though good-looking asides about the romance of the world and the romance between two people. If you like this kind of stuff, The New World is for you. If you don’t, steer well clear.
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