Being and Time
How many movies seriously consider whether time and the developmental trajectory of life on earth are ultimately providentially ordered or fundamentally contingent (or, perhaps, somehow, both)?
Voyage of Time does, at once through its succession of images - moving ever
forward in time, as the introductory note insists - and Brad Pitt's searching voice-over narration (for the IMAX version). In fact, to suggest that Malick merely "considers" this question is an understatement: he is in hot, intrepid pursuit of its final answer, from the inception of the universe to the edges of the earth. If it's some exceptionally high-level hubris to think that he might find that answer, it's that degree of ambition, and inevitable yet heroic overreach, that make his films - every single one of them - so thoroughly vital. He's one of the great artists that the medium of film has produced, but the ideas he's exploring extend so far beyond cinema. Malick is
in conversation with, not just "influenced" or "informed" by, the long (principally, but not exclusively, Western) tradition of theology and philosophy, and he finds his best opportunities for thoughtful engagement at the points where the two converge and run together.
In
Voyage of Time, the modern, "hard" sciences that flourished as outgrowths of Enlightenment philosophy feature more prominently than in any of his previous films. Pressing in so as to, at times, constrain Malick's cosmic narrative, Science's confident contributions to our understanding of time and space - which Malick acknowledges without much fleshing out - threaten to render this the most secular of his late films. By the normal, expected standards of the IMAX "nature film,"
Voyage of Time expends the most minimal of effort on facts, figures, dates, and layman's explanations of scientific processes; yet Malick, via Pitt, still dutifully, mundanely notes that it was an asteroid's impact which caused the dinosaurs to starve and die out. But, for Malick, such key moments of high contingency do not at all undermine this transhistorical "voyage" as merely a series of remarkable coincidences; instead, the many junctures at which the course of life might well have gone off the rails (but didn't quite) are the strongest testaments to the "miracle" and "gift" of life on earth. Whatever your own commitments or lack thereof, it's to Malick's credit that he pauses to ask, pointedly: what is "Nature" anyway? This question was of central importance for ancient (pagan as well as Christian) philosophers and their Scholastic heirs in the Middle Ages, and it has retained the interest of some of modern philosophy's best minds up to the present, but it is certainly a question that no other IMAX "nature film" would pose to its audience.
Nor would such a film - by anyone other than Malick - ask when Love first began, whether it was always already there, and what the course of Life would have been without it. Unmoved viewers may laugh at the merciful dinosaur in
The Tree of Life, or, for that matter, at the new, similar footage of dinosaur interactions in this one, but Malick is no cheap sentimentalist - he's onto something. It is particularly through this train of thought regarding "love," delivered over images of (ostensibly) low-complexity marine life, that Malick reinserts Meaning in his narrative of Time and Life. While, following Augustine, the course of events in this world may not carry meanings that we are able to correctly "read" and interpret, it does
not automatically follow from this that moments and things within earthly time are entirely devoid of meaning. It's the very
illegibility, and polysemy, of these moments and things that make them so full of mystery and potential - one of the defining aspects of Malick's movies. "Love," in all of his films but especially here, should be understood in its fullest, most inclusive sense, as not just
amor but also, and crucially,
caritas. It's the primordial, animating force in Malick's "voyage," the connective tissue uniting life across time and space, near-oblivion and "miraculous" continuity -
'for love is strong as death.'