Unveiling the Elusive: The Art of Writing Terrence Malick’s First Biography
In 1978, Terrence Malick was regarded as one of the most promising newcomers in Hollywood. His sophomore movie
Days of Heaven
was a pure masterpiece following his exceptional 1973 first album
Badlands
. Malick had endless possibilities for his next project. However, as the Hollywood legend suggests, he vanished from public view.
Malick astonishingly returned to the big screen after two decades with his third movie.
The Thin Red Line
Today, this mysterious director has become highly productive. From 2011 to 2019, they unveiled six movies. This marks quite a shift from the long gap between their second and third features.
Despite the higher productivity, Malick remains an enigma. His last known interview was with the French newspaper Le Monde back in 1979. Since then, he hasn’t provided any direct quotes to media outlets, and the sole photograph permitted for public release is a blurry promo image showing him at work directing.
The Thin Red Line
.
The scene is drenched in the warm glow of late afternoon—the magical hour. This photograph was captured by his father, Emil Malick. Despite their disagreements, Terry continued to view himself through his father’s perspective,” states the biography accompanying the image. Appearing midway through the book, this passage encapsulates much of John Bleasdale’s significant challenge, offering glimpses into both Malick’s human side and his distinctive style within the realm of cinema.
“The Magic Hours: The Films and Hidden Life of Terrence Malick” offers an extensive look into the filmmaker’s life, showcasing thorough research through detailed exploration of the challenges involved in leading large teams both in front of and behind the camera. Bleasdale enriches this narrative with newspaper excerpts, insights from colleagues, and personal reflections on Malick’s body of work.
This marks the first time Malick has been biographied. Consequently, an important query arises about whether Bleasdale managed to gain access to Malick directly. Although he readily mentions discussions with longtime associates including production designer Jack Fisk and actors like Sean Penn, he dismisses the idea of having spent significant time with Malick by stating they only exchanged “very courteous emails.”
However, “The Magic Hours” explores more aspects of Malick’s private life than any previous individual source has managed to do. Can we consider any part of this information as coming directly from him, despite it not being explicitly attributed to his request? The most I could obtain from Bleasdale was: “If there were, I wouldn’t be able to disclose it.”
While the detailed biography of Malick’s career is fascinating—especially the part about his challenging period during what has been called his “wilderness years” and how his difficult times with producers Bobby Geisler and John Roberdeau fueled his creativity—it remains intriguing.
Knight of Cups
– The most compelling parts of the book delve into how Malick’s personal life intertwined with his professional journey.
Bleasdale’s biography portrays Malick as an affable and highly approachable individual, equally likely to engage in lighthearted banter as they are to delve into profound philosophical discussions. Despite acknowledging Malick’s reserved nature, it becomes evident that one should not be swayed by the myths perpetuating his image as a recluse in Hollywood.
When the legends are set aside, details regarding Malick’s personal life emerge. His complicated connection with his father, the absence of his siblings, and his romantic experiences all influence Bleasdale’s interpretations of his movies and how they correlate with their respective release periods.
“He observes that tragic brothers and troubled fathers recur throughout his films.” However, even though aspects of his marriage to Michèle Monette shed some light on
To The Wonder
Bleasdale makes it evident that his body of work is not merely concealed autobiography.
I believe he strongly wishes to conceal aspects of his personal life,” Bleasdale states. Similar to how his philosophical background and interest in spirituality frequently provide entry points into understanding Terrence Malick’s body of work, Bleasdale argues this approach may not be entirely accurate. “He likely believes that if people view these elements as the ultimate keys to interpreting his films, they might miss out on truly engaging with them personally and extracting their own meanings.
If Malick deliberately avoids the spotlight in an effort similar to Barthes’ ‘Death of the Author,’ aiming to prevent his personal life from overshadowing viewers’ interpretation of his work, wouldn’t a biography contradict his creative intentions? Bleasdale suggests this might be a misinterpretation of Malick’s distance from media attention.
Bleasdale states, “He will definitely not read this book.” According to him, “he previously mentioned that he would avoid therapy at all costs as it would deplete his energy. Instead of delving into himself through interviews, he prefers to explore within his films.”
Similar to his AFI classmate David Lynch’s well-known reluctance to explain the meanings behind his movies, Malick’s primary focus regarding his public persona is solely about his films.
Engaging with these films, be it through a post-screening discussion or even reading a biography about them, allows his works to become part of our lives. “Ultimately, the purpose of any film-related book should be to encourage readers to revisit the movies and appreciate them in a more profound and vivid manner,” explains Bleasdale.
“The Magic Hours” lives up to this expectation. It fully immerses itself in how Malick integrates his life story into a filmmaking approach that pushes the boundaries of the genre. The fact that it achieves this with Malick’s most controversial movies is even more remarkable compared to what he does with his well-loved works. As Bleasdale elaborates in his section on this topic:
To The Wonder
There is much more to his approach to filmmaking than just the apparent link between his narratives and his second wife.
It’s strange. The film is ostensibly autobiographical, yet it’s presented entirely through Marina’s [Olga Kurylenko] perspective. Ben Affleck barely has three lines throughout the entire movie; it primarily focuses on her character and Javier Bardem playing a roving priest.” According to Bleasdale, Malick remains creatively innovative even when delving into personal stories. “An autobiography doesn’t always mean sharing one’s innermost feelings. Instead, it can be about examining the viewpoints of others who have influenced your life, which is quite a noble approach.
If Malick’s initial trio of films were regarded as masterpieces and his fifth – which was equally autobiographical –
The Tree of Life
solidified his comeback with the Palme d’Or at Cannes and Academy Award nominations; however, his subsequent movies have mostly received criticism for being tedious and aimlessly spiritual, with visuals reminiscent of a perfume commercial.
Bleasdale contends that even in his more subtle works, an avant-garde artistic approach persists, maintaining its influence on cinema similar to his earlier productions.
Out of Malick’s seven films produced in this century, five were shot by cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki (known as Chivo). Their collaboration has created a distinctive visual style that characterizes their work together.
Over Chivo’s debut film collaboration with Malick,
The New World
, they established a “dogma” for filming that involved using “only available natural light,” with strict prohibition against underexposure. Additional guidelines disallowed zooming, discouraging pans and tilts in favor of movements along the z-axis instead. This set of rules has become characteristic of Malick’s movies—sometimes even leading to parodic imitations—but these techniques have also seeped into mainstream modern cinematography. Lubezki received his third Academy Award for his contributions to this project.
The Revenant
, a movie featuring distinct bear claw marks inspired by Malick’s work.
Bleasdale mentions films and directors whom he believes exhibit a clear influence of Malick’s work. Paul Thomas Anderson’s movies are among them.
There Will Be Blood
and
The Master
owe a significant debt to Malick’s historical works. From last year’s
Oppenheimer
“, “You won’t find that type of editing with two scenes split throughout the entire film; instead, most of the narrative relies on individual shots rather than complete scenes, excluding ‘The Tree of Life’ from consideration.” Even this year’s Best Picture contender doesn’t break away from this trend.
Nickel Boys
is “totally
The Tree of Life
in its technique of montage and use of subjective camera work.
If his work doesn’t appeal to a general audience, it’s because he’s pushing boundaries by experimenting with cinematic storytelling techniques, according to Bleasdale. The aim is always to narrate tales that resonate with viewers through fresh approaches.
As someone not previously inclined towards Malick, reading “The Magic Hours,” Bleasdale presents a compelling human case for appreciating Malick both as a director and an individual, finding him more relatable without the veil of enigma perpetuated by media coverage.
As he cites one of Malick’s coworkers: “We truly thought each morning at work that our aim was to revolutionize the cinematic language.”
“Terrence Malick’s Secret World: His Movies and Concealed Existence” by John Bleasdale is out now.
