The New World

 Where do you come from? Who were there before you? And what did there lives were like? I ask myself these questions from time to time. I imagine what my surroundings were like without any of the modern amenities: without roads, electricity, cars, etc. Nature at its purest. Nature at its most glorious. This is what Terrence Malick's The New World is all about. It is an ode to the Americas and its native inhabitants. It is visual poetry at its finest. I have rarely seen more jaw-droppingly gorgeous vistas in a movie. Ever. Sure, it lasts 3h + and the story oft drags on. But underneath is some daydream-inducing scenery, a swoon-worthy soundtrack and a depiction of the Natives as you rarely see it. By all accounts, Native American were victim of colonialism; the White Man is all his idées de grandeur and supremacy comes to a foreign land with seemingly no regards for others that have been there before him. He comes to claim what is his and the others suffer from the wrath of the barrel of his gun. But in Malick's account, the Native are celebrated in a way that i have yet to see in American cinema. They are beautiful people. Strong. And most definitely the "bigger person". Malick's strives to undertake the story of Pocahontas, the Indian princess who adapted to the white world and became one of them. With closeups, lots of non-dit, and evocative imagery, he does it beautifully. What also strikes me was that a fairytale is never really a fairytale, is it? Pocahontas loves John Smith. He loves her too. Yet he chooses his career and social standing over her. And finally, the man who was just ok, who didn't provide her with passion but rather with balance and strength, is the man who was just right for her. But I guess this is Malick's lesson: nothing is ever as it seems. And whatever is forced is unnatural. Trust the cycle of life. Trust that things will take their due course. A trust that all of us, need a little more of. xox