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To say that The Tree of Life is unconventional cinema would be an understatement. To say that it is what cinema should be is touching closer to the truth.

The fifth film in Terrence Malick’s 38-year career and winner of the Palme d’Or at this year’s Cannes Film Festival, The Tree of Life is an overwhelming testament to childhood, faith and the existential questions of the universe. It’s a heavy film — perhaps the definition of highbrow cinema — and it demands a lot from its viewer, but it’s not impenetrable or contradictory the way David Lynch’s Inland Empire is, for example. It’s a film that requires your patience, your trust and your awe, but it’s more than rewarding.

The story of three brothers growing up in 1950s Waco, Texas, The Tree of Life focuses on the oldest brother Jack’s loss of innocence and his inevitable pondering of the meaning of existence and his place in the universe. Amidst beautiful scenes capturing the vitality, passion and vulnerability of a young boy, as well as the trials of conservative family life in 1950s America, the film also focuses on an adult Jack (Sean Penn) looking back on his life and how his parents and the death of his brother shaped his existence.

About a third of the way into the film, the focus radically shifts away from Jack’s boyhood Texas to the creation of the universe. For twenty minutes or so we witness the birth of the cosmos, the formation of the planets, the evolution of life on Earth and contemplative dinosaurs all set to blaring symphonies by the likes of Brahms and Berlioz. It is one of the most visually stunning sequences in the recent history of film, awe-inspiring in its majestic combination of sound and spectacle.

However, while its spectacle seems its primary appeal, this scene is no digression. It serves the thematic purpose of the film as a whole, throwing Jack’s existential questions into stark relief by demonstrating just how insignificant one person’s life seems when compared to the enormity of the universe. It contemplates why life matters at all if it is so insignificant in the grand scheme of things, and also how one discovers one’s place in the universe.

The Tree of Life is the most beautiful film you will see this year. It intricately portrays the inner and outer life of a boy as he grows to become a man, and all the spiritual pondering and emotional frustration that goes along with this growth. But to appreciate the film, you have to allow it to wash over you.

Malick’s execution of this scene also speaks to the film’s greater structure. The Tree of Life contains a narrative, but its impact on the audience is not made through isolated scenes or solitary snippets of dialogue or narration. The story is told through the editing: how one image flows into another, how the narration speaks not just to one image but to the general feeling created by the images’ juxtaposition, the music and the fleeting emotions displayed. Like famed Soviet filmmaker Sergei Eisenstein, Malick uses montage to create feelings, not convey information. He uses this cinematic technique to allow us into the cerebral and spiritual existence of Jack, played compellingly by Hunter McCracken.

In many ways, The Tree of Life is a memory of childhood. Memories are not understood in a linear, concrete way, but through images, sounds and feelings. When taken together, they form a portrait of one’s past, and ultimately, one’s self. Thus, The Tree of Life is a portrait of Jack.

Early on, Jack becomes aware of two paths through life: the way of nature (personified by his father) and the way of grace (personified by his mother). His mother (Jessica Chastain) is beautiful, caring and wholly attentive to her children. Scenes of her playing with her three sons, dashing in and out of the house and running away from Jack as he brandishes a small lizard like a weapon are some of the most honest and touching scenes of the film. Not only does Chastain thrive in her role as ethereal caretaker, her scenes touch at the honest truth of that deep connection between mother and child.

Jack’s mother is caring, but her graceful ways put her at odds with Jack’s father (Brad Pitt), who wants his sons to be strong and pitiless. Many critics have written off Pitt’s character as too brutal and uncaring, glossing over how nuanced a portrait of 1950s manhood he is. Jack’s father is a slave to the world he lives in. He wanted to be a great musician, but he sees life as having plotted against him to thwart his attempts at greatness.

For Jack’s father, life is a competition — it’s man against the world and man against man. He loves his sons and wants them to have a better life than he had, but he only knows how to express his love through commands. In a brutally telling scene, Jack’s father asks him, “Do you love your father?” to which Jack mechanically responds, “Yes, sir.” Pitt disappears into the role, giving perhaps the best performance of his career.

Something that’s worthy of an entire essay (not just a mere review) is the religious component of The Tree of Life. It is easily one of the most religious films of recent years. It opens with a quote from the Book of Job that describes the beauty of the cosmos and explores how human suffering and pain measure up against the universal. Here, Malick’s trademark narration — the characters’ quiet ponderings and soul murmurs — is directed at God. The narration questions the identity of this unknowable creator and asks for guidance and compassion in the hardships of life. God is no metaphor here, but a profound way of understanding the characters, the questions they ask and ultimately the film itself.

As for the visuals, they need no belabouring because their beauty will be self-evident once the film begins. They are beyond stunning. Terrence Malick has a knack for breathtaking visuals — Days of Heaven and The New World are possibly the most gorgeous films ever made — and The Tree of Life pushes the boundaries for cinematic spectacle. The scenes of the cosmos are arresting, but it’s the intimate moments of the family like Father playing with the foot of newborn Jack that are the most touching.

The Tree of Life is the most beautiful film you will see this year. It intricately portrays the inner and outer life of a boy as he grows to become a man, and all the spiritual pondering and emotional frustration that goes along with this growth. But to appreciate the film, you have to allow it to wash over you. The Tree of Life is a delicate and poetic film that will transfix and move you, but you can resist its power. It’s like a calming ocean of emotions and ideas that requires you to wade in and float upon its waves of spiritual transcendence.

The Tree of Life is currently playing at the Roxy Theatre.

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image: 2011 Fox Searchlight Pictures