(A few weeks ago, I saw three movies in one week. Now I’m gonna write about them. This is post 1/3.)
These blog posts are really about me (uh, duh), using the experience of writing and thinking about culture to suss out refine what I like. Turns out, its not this.
Tree of Life was 600 hours long. There’s some mushy sort of wavy light at the beginning, and people hugging. Then there’s this insanely awesome part about the creation of the freakin’ universe. It’s like all the best parts of the IMAXs that they show at museuems – stars and galaxies exploding, scored to ponderous music, and then geysers, melting lava, oceans, sea creatures, and DINOSAURS.
And it was so huge and over the top and campy, in the sense of over-reaching ambition campy. It was like being on drugs. I loved it.
And then someone swims out of a house into the air, and that is birth, and its hilarious, but then it goes on for another hour and a half about him growing up. And, I just don’t care about this white boy in Texas in the 50’s, and his daddy issues and his weird NPG (no personality girl) of a mom. I know that’s not the point, but it was so boring. Pretty though! And it got in your head; yesterday when we went to a barbecue in the suburbs, surrounded by little blond children playing badminton, it felt like I was kind of in the Tree of Life.
It also made me think about how pretty Brad Pitt is. He’s too pretty, like, unrealistically pretty. Too pretty to be believed. Rob Lowe wrote about this in his book (at least according to the review I read, durr), how its hard to get taken seriously when you’re just incredibly beautiful. Not raw or sexy, just…perfect looking. Pretty. Can Brad Pitt act? Actually, I have no idea. Whenever he is onscreen he is unbelievable, because he just looks like that.
Which makes Tyler Durden the best Brad Pitt performance – “I look like you wanna look, I fuck like you wanna fuck.” Or Ocean’s Eleven, or something else where he is not playing a real person. Because he is not a real person.
Anyway, Tree of Life – snooze. I should stop seeing movies that are described as “arty” or “difficult” or “thought-provoking,” because I never like them. I hate having thoughts provoked. I prefer explosions. What I’m saying is, I hated the Tree of Life, but I have no one to blame for that but myself.