Today my family and I drove an hour to go see The New World, which I was excited about seeing, but nervous due to mixed reviews and a close, but not completely fresh rating. All the critics I usually defer to liked it, so I was hopeful. It was perfect. Terrence Malick won my heart in 1998 with his amazing film The Thin Red Line, and this one only encouraged my ardor. This is my favorite film of this Oscar year since Cinderella Man.
It's not a fast paced film, it's literature on screen. It absorbs you in it's story, and what a story. New comer Q'Orianka Kilcher's eyes light up the screen in a way the reminds me of what Peter Jackson was trying to do with King Kong's Naomi Watts effort to communicate with Kong, but succeeds in a way Watts was not completely able to dominate. The language barriers in both these movies makes eye contact and body language imperative and while I loved King Kong, I knew there was something slightly off and it didn't quite hit me until this afternoon (and it probably had to do with blue screen). While Kilcher is an amazing actress, able communicate subtlety in a way even seasoned actors sometimes fail in, the editing style of the film also contributed to the emotions presented. My mother remarked that it made you feel like you were there. I fully agree. The slowness gives you time to think about what you are seeing and feel with the characters.
Also of note: this movies features, in my humble opinion, two of the hottest actors on film today, Colin Ferrell (such earnest eyes for such a dirty boy) and Christian Bale (from the boy next door to Batman).
The New World is actually a romance. Many films have tried to capture the epic feelings of love, but this one really made me believe. It is truthful in it's results, naive in it's sensuality and beautiful in it's imaging. I remember what it was like to be in love at 15, waiting and waiting and waiting for the right time until waiting becomes what life is. We mature into something more, hopefully someone better able to love in truth, but that initial ache echoes forever. Love belongs to the heart, and those emotions of such tender intensity are no ones business but the heart.
On a less serious note, my father will not watch Napoleon Dynamite because he thinks it's embarrassing. I don't really know what that means.
it is embarassing. just thinking about it I feel ashamed.
Posted by: linnea at January 22, 2006 04:21 PM