Having only seen two other Terrance Malick films, The Thin Red Line (which I rather like), and Tree of Life (which I’m still processing), a family member suggesting their interest in watching this sumptuous ’78 historical drama was all the reason I needed to knock Days of Heaven off my to-see list (beefing up my Malick experience tremendously in the process; gotta love directors with small catalogues).

I was awfully surprised to find that the last feature of Malick’s before a two-decade hiatus was only 90 minutes in length. Perhaps the relatively brief runtime is a product of the film’s two-year editing cycle, as paring things down is often about the only power one feels they have once everything is in the can. The brevity is noticeable: Days of Heaven isn’t composed of scenes so much as it is a loosely connected fever dream recollection of a longer, more methodical costume drama.

I appreciated the sparseness of the film’s storytelling as much as I did the jaw-dropping depth of its prairie vistas (most surprising of all: discovering that the endless rolling hills of farmland happen to be in my childhood backyard of Alberta). As is his wont, Malick boils down characters to almost biblical simplicity, using them as spectators to, or props within the wider emotional canvas of his environment. I can see why critics might find the film’s imagery to be letdown by the start/stop narrative, but there’s an intimacy to the world of Days of Heaven that I can’t say I’ve seen in Malick’s other work.

One recommendation: don’t watch the film if you’ve been listening to a lot of Comedy Bang! Bang! lately, or else Linda Manz’s narration is going to do nothing but remind you of Bobby Moynihan as the stabby orphan Fourvel all film.