Terrence Malick has reached his final form, the one of total freedom and no production control at all. The guy gets lost in whatever music festival, big estate, empty open-spaces, receptions and whatnots, filming A/A+ actors and actresses wandering around and mumbling shit. The wide-angle lens that distorts the edges of the frame, making it not even that good-looking anymore, is a good symbol for the overdose of a cloying formula.
Terrence Malick has reached his final form, the one of total freedom and no production control at all. The guy gets lost in whatever music festival, big estate, empty open-spaces, receptions and whatnots, filming A/A+ actors and actresses wandering around and mumbling shit. The wide-angle lens that distorts the edges of the frame, making it not even that good-looking anymore, is a good symbol for the overdose of a cloying formula.