Intimacy

The place where I felt closest to nature was the rugby field behind Queen Elizabeth elementary school in Vancouver, where I grew up. Every day after school in the fall and winter we would walk from our high school blocks away down to the pitch with our cleats in our hands. Before we reached the field we could smell it, the muddy soil and surrounding pine trees rising up to meet us. Part of the intimacy of the field was that it was an enclosed space, a pit deep below the school, with dark woods on every side. When the field came into view I always felt a small quaver of excitement. The pitch was ours. I felt close to that field, every day pushing my body to its limits. Sweating and gasping in the cold air. Racing on the soft soil calling for the ball. There is a science to tackling that many people don't understand, and so they would be shocked that a guy of my size could excel at the game of rugby. But to tackle someone, you have to know what you're doing. Without pads you can't simply hurl your body into an opponent, knock him over with the sheer force of your velocity. You have to be precise. You have to be very aware of your own body. I remember the smells and the cold air, the sense of privacy that we felt each day as we trudged down Blenhem street towards the field. I remember the first long drink of water at the end of practice, our bodies colored with grass and mud. 

Malick's view of nature

When Wit asks in the Thin Red Line "Is there an avenging impulse in nature?" he is speaking in the context of a horrific battle that has just taken place on the hills of Gaudelupe Canal, in WWII. The vengeance that has been leveled has purely been by humans destroying the land--with bombs, beatings, overall cruelty. Wit links human cruelty to humanity's attitude towards nature. This is typical of Malick. I believe he sees a direct link between the two. His attitude towards nature is complex, but it is clear there is a distinction between the way his characters often perceive nature and the commentary about nature that the film makes on the whole (or that "malick makes"). For Wit, his question comes out of a deep respect for nature that is developed throughout the film. He sees the wonder all around him and struggles to reconcile this with the damage that humans have inflicted on the land and each other. How can this be? 

As to how Malick represents nature, generally it is not as vengeful or aggressive, but almost the opposite--uninterested, though perhaps watchful. It just exists. He portrays nature as an extremely vital and specific community that is going on at all times regardless of what humans are up to. He is known for his visual attention to detail in nature, sometimes just watching, not trying to evoke beauty so much as register it. In his attention to detail in nature, he indicates that humans are not separate from nature, but rather inter-dependent. The visual space in his films is one that is occupied powerfully by both nature and humans. The plots of his movies often demonstrate a rupture in the nature-human balance that is largely uncommented on. I wouldn't say that Malick portrays nature as a nemesis, although this is how it is sometimes perceived by humans. The more accurate description might be nature as seeing everything, watchful in a kind of disconnected sense. This is demonstrated for example, in Days of Heaven, in the important scene where Bill steals from the farmer and snoops on his conversation with the doctor. Here, Bill hides behind a cart and overhears that the farmer will die in 6 months. On thing that is interesting about this shot is the way that, although Bill is hidden from all humans, he is circled by a flock of geese, just pecking around him. I don't know exactly what Malick is up to with moments like this, but it is a frequent image--nature looking on, or simply being present, at the sight of human deception or cruelty.