A Hidden Life

Terrence Malick is a unique and divisive director. Audiences and collaborators are constantly split. For every interview that has a critic or collaborator praising him, another is detailing a horrible experience. He famously works with minimal to no script. Allowing for the film to form in the crucial editing phase over multiple versions and cuts. As a result, the finished products often have characters and plots changing drastically from what was intended and expected. The most infamous example is Thin Red Line (1998) in which actors like Adrien Brody, Bill Pullman, and Mickey Rourke were reduced or cut completely. This fluid change style can be felt in viewing, even if you don’t read the backstory about the cuts. The plot of his films can wander. And there are other tropes that you come to expect. Very little talking, other than whispered inner monologues. There are several scenes of characters pensively pacing or staggering around and bouncing off each other. But if you know that going in, you can enjoy and appreciate his movies. It is not typical cinema. Watching his films feels like a stream of consciousness. Terrence Malick makes poetic prose films. The cinematography makes up for the lack of dialogue. Characters—for the most part—behave naturally in their environment because he lets the actors play, move, and wander for prolonged takes. Malick takes hiatuses between projects so his filmography is a bit scattered. I became aware of him, like a lot of people, with Tree of Life (2011). And then I went back to Badlands (1973), Days of Heaven (1978), Thin Red Line (1998), and New World (2005). I loved Tree of Life and loved all his previous work. I couldn’t binge them or anything. They are heavy. I worked my way back and around, over the next several years. I think Tree of Life had a big impact because it was very different from films I had seen before. It was one of the first movies that I watched like it was playing in a frame, hanging in a gallery. You just sit and feel and think about it for a little over two hours. This was different. I liked how I could talk about it with friends and everyone get something different out of it. Therefore I was excited when his next film To the Wonder (2012) came out the very next year. I knew there were usually long gaps, so I was excited to see something new so soon. I was ready to feel artistic again. Sadly, I was extremely disappointed. His next three films, released over the next six years or so, demonstrated how his style can break down. I tried to will myself to like them but couldn’t. His casts continued to be impressive with actors like Christian Bale, Natalie Portman, Ryan Gosling, Michael Fassbender. But there was not enough holding the films together. To the point that I didn’t even watch Song to Song (2017) until I saw a trailer for the next one: A Hidden Life (2020). Terrance Malick had a lot of buzz at the release of Tree of Life. Just like he does after every extended delay. For such a weird, artistic, niche kind of film, people were talking about it. I think a lot of new moviegoers got interested. A lot of people who had not seen any of his previous work. And that interest—like mine—faded over the proceeding projects. I think the few flops also permitted people to write him off. People who saw his previous films as bloated, pretentious, dragging finally had his defenders agree. After so much lore and myth surrounding his career and style— a style that always created controversy, but also always paid off—these few films showed a decline. Meaning, they were not masterpieces. They are not linear cinema. They are more like dances, mimes, or ballets that happen to be on film. No real character or plot. Just feelings in human form moving through various situations. These three were experimental, even for Malick. A possible phase. But people stopped watching. And for that reason, I think A Hidden Life went under the radar. But I could not have been more pleased with it.

Malick does not need much plot. Just enough. I think he got stronger in some regards due to the three experimental films I did not enjoy as much. This one probably has the most linear plot since New World. And like that film—and a few of his others—it is a true story. An Austrian farmer Franz Jägerstätter (August Diehl) battles with himself and the powers at be when the Nazi regime rises. Even from his remote village, he understands the evil better than most. He sees it from the inside out. He senses it spreading and bringing ruin. He watches his friends, family, and church fall in line. He knows that he will have to swear allegiance to this evil and perhaps have to serve. Franz’s only ally is his wife Franziska (Valerie Pachner). The film explores the progression of their dilemma. From personal anguish to social ex-communication to arrest and probable execution. Along the way, the film explores all avenues and repercussions. How can he or his family survive if he refuses? How could he live with himself if he doesn’t? What “good” does his small, silent protest do? Mallick is at his best. Diehl and Pachner are amazing. The chemistry and sorrow in their love story drive the film. The lack of dialogue works perfectly for this slow and somber reflection. The beautiful shots of nature could be a documentary on their own but are used masterfully during the contemplative monologues and score. The lengthy takes make you agonize with them, placing yourself in the crisis.

One favorite scene: The bike messenger. As Franz is dealing with his personal choice to defy Hitler in his heart, he is waiting and wondering if he will be called to military service. Most people in his village become aware of his convictions but these decisions have not been truly tested yet. If a letter arrives, calling him to report to training, he will be forced to report to training. At the camp, he will have to swear allegiance to Hitler, publicly. The mail carrier arrives on a bike, frequently. Every time the bike appears, often interrupted their normal daily lives and struggles, it is an intense moment. The dread. The held breath. The minimal relief.

Second Favorite Scene: No One Will Know. Some people support Franz in spirit but do not think that his actions will serve any purpose, help his family, or do any “good.” These characters make the assertion that Hitler and his movement will not be swayed or changed by Franz’s small protest. Even if he gives his life, refusing allegiance, they claim that No One Will Know. There are several lines to this point, as there often are in movies about real-life acts of rebellion or protest. Scenes of the antagonist or reluctant supporter saying that no one will know what they did or they will be forgotten. These lines always feel like a wink to the audience. A little meta. Often heavy-handed. Like saying the movie title in dialogue. But the point of “Who will know or remember your defiance or allegiance” is explored well in this film. When people tell this to Franz, you believe them and feel for Franz and almost give him permission to turn back. Almost to the point, that you would be content to watch his family live happily in that beautiful valley for the rest of the runtime, and hold nothing against him. And it makes you think about the influence of films, books, and so on that share stories and lives that would have otherwise been unknown. But on a greater scale, pushes you to investigate the good that was already done, no matter if the movie was never made or not. An absolute good already in existence. Hence the title.

My absolute favorite scene: Church Mural Painter. Franz seeks council and discourse with many in his life, to see if he is doing the right thing. One person who advises him is a painter. The man is only in the film for these one or two scenes. He is preserving and refurbishing the murals of Jesus Christ in the local chapel. He reflects, “I paint their comfortable Christ, with a halo on his head … Someday I’ll paint the true Christ.” This line nutshells the film’s overall conflict with motive, power, and choice. The idea that faith is often interpreted and implemented based on comfort, tradition, and social command. But Franz is facing the reality that his faith in a Lord or any sense of goodness is calling him—from a distant place of nature—to risk everything.

Final Thoughts: As always, the cinematography is spectacular. The runtime is about three hours, but it is worth it. The common themes of Mallick’s films—man’s destruction of nature, free will, and faith allegories—are stronger than ever. Like a Tree of Life, I wish more people would see this one. It is definitely one that is worth discussing.