TO THE WONDER: REVIEW – Matt Damon’s dumb ass friend and Iran hostage rescuer goes to France and meets old Bond girl. They monkey about on a train, then go back to America where Olga Kurylenko (for t’is she), plus sprog, can’t stop dancing.
Poor Affleck looks a mite confused because a. she’s hot but b. she won’t stop dancing. Later he looks even more confused because Rachel McAdams turns up and a. she’s hot but b. erm… I don’t know. Confused? Hmmm.
The cries – criticising the emperor’s new clothes – were loud when Tree of Life was released, but I for one, thought it was madcap fun (read that review HERE). Here though it’s not so much that the emperor is naked as we can see his internal organs and it ain’t pretty. Well, that said, it actually is pretty. But the Malick aesthetic has now become industry standard for car and jeans adverts and other than the look, there is very little to hold onto here. The interminable voice over has now become grating. Sixth form poetry passing for stream of conciousness. Poor Ben looks confused. Olga dances and doesn’t so much hug trees as suck twigs. Javier Bardem turns up, looking baffled to find himself a priest. He preaches a sermon about love being great, a few more shots of sunsets and cows, and we’re done. The film ultimately overdoses on reverence: – not just for nature, love, God etc. – but for Malick himself who seems in great need of an editor who doesn’t like Terrence Malick films.
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