Passion, along with the delicious disorder that so often accompanies it, is only allowed into the film toward the end.
It conveys life experience to such a sentimentalized degree that the world comes to resemble only the sham of a Norman Rockwell painting.
The filmmakers cut the film to emphasize the story’s familiar plot points, rather than highlight any instances of personal visual artistry.
One major reason that Terrence Malick’s films are so divisive is that they’re so nakedly emotional, that he’s so blatantly aiming for the sublime.
It delivers its metaphors with just enough grace to offset the fact that its titular animal seems hopelessly out of place in a kid’s film.
It's all very interesting, but it still feels like a cut-and-dry homework assignment…or a Paula Abdul song.