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The New World (2006) New Line Cinema
2 hrs. 30 mins.
Starring: Colin Farrell, Q’Orianka Kilcher, Christian Bale, Christopher Plummer, Jonathan Pryce, Wes Studi, Noah Taylor, Irene Bedard
Directed by: Terrence Malick
This film is rated: PG-13


The New World

Rating:

  E-MAIL FRANK OCHIENG

Photo: New Line Cinema


Filmmaker Terrence Malick would excel as a visionary painter because all one would have to do is hand him a brush then sit back and appreciate his wondrous strokes. There’s no doubt that Malick can enhance his meditative films with exquisite imagery. In his gorgeously shot historical melodrama The New World, Malick’s filmmaking techniques are operating on all familiar cylinders. Breathtaking in its lyrical and lavish overtones, The New World is a vibrantly seductive-looking piece of cinema that would clearly soothe the eyeball. Unfortunately at a two and a half-hour mark for screen time, Malick’s tranquil narrative is hopelessly ponderous and unravels in its tedious search for its adventurous niche.

Strangely, The New World could be comparable to Malick’s intoxicating 1998 war drama The Thin Red Line in that both films incorporate narration along with the atmospheric sheen of its cinematic makeup. However, another distinctive characteristic is Malick’s insistence on manipulating his audiences with slow-footed pacing and disjointed storytelling that noticeably hinders his well-meaning epics. Malick is so busy creating a picturesque landscape that he fails to fuse his vivid exposition with revealing dialogue and sharp-minded plotting. The artist behind the glossy spectacle of Days of Heaven should know how to motivate moviegoers beyond sparkling waterways and crisp blue skies.

The year is 1607 and the setting is 17th century colonial Virginia. Englishman Officer John Smith (Colin Farrell) finds himself traveling to America aboard the ship as a prisoner awaiting his death sentence. Smith’s Captain Newport (Christopher Plummer) has special plans for his insubordinate charge. As “punishment”, the Captain elects Smith to act as the liaison between the visiting Brits and the New Land’s natives, or “naturals” as they are commonly called. If Smith can arrange some kind of peaceful existence between the factions of people, so be it.

Unfortunately, things are dour for Smith as his attempts at becoming a human welcoming mat fails miserably. Therefore, this man is rendered helpless in his eventual capture. Just as Smith is about to be eradicated by the excitable warriors, a young and pretty Algonquian Indian girl named Pocahontas (Q’Orianka Kilcher) comes to his rescue and pleads for the periled Englishman’s safety. Being Chief Powhatan’s (August Schellberg) treasured daughter, Pocahontas has some clout and protects Smith from imminent slaughter. Soon, the twosome would become close and find everlasting love.

However, there’s a romantic triangle involved as a third individual is added into the mix—namely Pocahontas’ English husband John Rolfe (Christian Bale). Despite being married and unselfishly supportive of aiding the new arrivals to adjust to her people’s land, Pocahontas is over her head with many concerns. Will Pocahontas and John Smith be able to keep their affectionate feelings strong amid all the turmoil? Can they co-exist lovingly when the English settlers and Algonquians are at constant odds with each other?

The real mastermind behind the remarkably polished but lackluster The New World isn’t writer-director Malick but cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki (Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events). Lubezki’s roving camera captures the radiance and rapture of the film’s environmental aura. As an exquisite nature showcase, World is breathtakingly indescribable. But as a formidable epic, the movie loses its muster as Malick matter-of-factly dishes out slices of transparent tension.

As the romantic leads, Farrell and Kilcher spend ridiculous and wasted moments staring blankly at one another while stroking each other’s shining follicles in the sunshine. The dialogue is minimal and meaningless. The arbitrary script feels deflated and never really bothers to fuel the forbidden passion that is suppose to ignite between’s Farrell’s Smith and Kilcher’s Pocahontas. Never mind the trivial aspect of Farrell’s Irish accented tongue causing credibility issues with his characterization. The supporting cast are a winning group of actors but they’re left with virtually nothing to do but fill space at needed times to keep the proceedings rolling along.

Overall, this sleep-inducing love story seems rather fragmented and forced. Malick can charm us with the photogenic tall trees and green grass all he wants to but this doesn’t compensate for an undeveloped story. A dull history lesson given by your dandruff-ridden social studies teacher would be more entertaining than Malick’s sumptuous snoozefest.

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Frank Ochieng
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