The New World is the newest offering of director Terence Malick, the uncompromising visualist who brought the world such classic cinema as Badlands, Days of Heaven and '98's flawed but ambitious The Thin Red Line. This time he has brought to life the almost mythical saga of explorer John Smith (Colin Farrell), his new world love Pocohantas (Q'orianka Kilcher, at 15 a newcomer to feature films) and the founding of Jamestown in 1607. In keeping with the scant dialogue and almost non-existent traditional narrative, the name Pocohantas is never spoken during the film.

Our main character Smith arrives a ship's prisoner due to charges of insubordination leveled by ship Captain (a stoic Christopher Plummer - reduced to almost walk-on screen-time) and upon reaching land, Smith is charged with the perilous task of breaching the language barrier between the English and the local Algonquin peoples. Smith's first contact with the natives results in his near death and imprisonment at the hands of the natives. (Who are eventually portrayed as far more graceful and civilized than the rancorous layabouts fumbling to settle the besotted Jamestown) Alas Smith's life is spared courtesy of young Pocohontas, beloved daughter of chief Powhatan. In time Smith develops communication with the tribe and falls for the chief's winsome and enchanting daughter. A love represented visually by Malick and his brilliant cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki as a series of chaste romps and romantic swims. Sadly, their love is lost as a casualty of circumstance as Smith is called to return to England. The heartbroken Pocohantas suffers further insult as she is ostracised from the tribe - and forced to seek refuge within the squalid walls of Jamestown. Soon she marries a rich tobacconist John Rolfe (Christian Bale, shining in a relatively brief role) who sails her back to the old world where after adapting to European ways becomes something of a celebrity. It is with Pocohantas that we find the films emotional core in her struggles for love and her longing for home. She remains the quintessential nature's child dancing freely in her English garden. Her performance is a stunning mixture of childlike innocence and emotional maturity.

As said earlier Malick is a master of the cinematic landscape and in this film we find more than a few Kodak moments worthy of a cinematography Oscar. Why is it that Malick struggles (as he did with the Thin Red Line) in the task of cohesively piecing together the episodic and narrative elements of the film. And like Thin Red Line Malick's tendency toward unnecessary interior monologues (character's thoughts vocalized) plagues his New World as well. I think less would have been more this time around. The quiet grace of Pocohantas is better enjoyed without this intrusion.

Another problem that comes to mind after one sees the film is the use of the cast. Farrell and Kilcher are kinetic throughout. Kilcher handles the film with wisdom beyond her years (also interesting to note that she is the cousin of pop singer Jewel). Farrell is competent but at times his dialogue succumbs to heroic, leading man cliches - made all the more stilted and strange by the Irish accent which contrasts with the undoubtebly British historical figure that Farrell is portraying. And also I would have enjoyed seeing more of the great performance by Wes Studi, who got the major Oscar attention for 1993's great Last of the Mohicans.

The film runs at a hefty 2 hours and 40 minutes but still the film works despite some detail flaws and structural frustrations. The pacing falls back mostly upon Malick's undeniable skill at telling a story visually and with emotions and ultimately this daring and singular director succeeds.