Knight of Cups


Terence Malick’s Knight of Cups is certainly is not a film for everyone—perhaps not even a film I’d recommend. This film is not one for someone looking to escape or for someone who needs to “get it.” But if you’re spiritually wandering, wondering what life is about, or are simply a lover of medium specificity—perhaps this is a film for you.

“Remember the story I used to tell you as a boy… It’s about a knight—a prince—who was sent out into Egypt to find a pearl at the bottom of the sea. But when the prince arrived, the people poured him a drink that took away his memory. He forgot he was the son of the king. He forgot the pearl.”

Rick (Christian Bale), a screenwriter, wanders in the wake of tragedy—a brother has recently died. Rick’s brother throws blame to the father, Rick’s father throws blame to the children, Rick’s mother smiles and pretends to ignore the underlying tension. Rick does nothing. Arguments happen in the background, leaving only snippets of conversation to eek through the soundtrack. Rick is in a fog—the things around him are nothing, mean nothing, just like the empty studio back lot many conversations take place. He is searching for that pearl—only he has no idea what or where it is.

Knight of Cups is less of a story and more of an experience—a blur of memories and experiences as a man struggles to find meaning in a life that has been revealed to him as empty. A combination of Tarot and Christian symbolism, the film uses the specific aspects of its medium to tell the story. Such an imaginative collage of emotions and experiences could only exist in film; images weave in and out, combined with voice-over of Psalms and The Pilgrim’s Progress and a lush soundtrack filled with early 20th century nationalist work and Hanan Townshend’s minimalist compositions.

Emmanuel Lubezki’s beautiful, dreamlike cinematography paints the city of angels as an urban jungle, always looking from the top of building town as if looking down from the top of a tree. As Rick drives through Los Angeles, he passes billboards and advertisements which suggest to him some way to find meaning. And certainly, this is where he looks for it: in the materialistic, vacuous world of excess that is at the ready in Hollywood. He drinks, he sleeps with prostitutes, he goes to parties—but nothing can end the vacant stare with which he views the world. The film looks at the emptiness of the lavish, party-hard lifestyle Rick is living—but perhaps more poignantly it looks at the morning after, when there is nothing left but empty cups and hangovers.

In the meantime relationships form. From an ex-wife who serves as a physician for burn victims to the model who finds balance in her Buddhist worship to the stripper who embraces every childlike curiosity, each of these women have found meaning and direction while Rick is proven incapable. They all complain that he is not fully committed to the relationship, that he never lets them know what he is thinking. Once in every relationship the couple finds themselves at the beach—and while his partners jump and laugh and splash in the water, Rick stays on the shore.


At one point, he believes he has found his pearl in the form of a relationship with a married woman. But that is also torn away from him as he is pounded with the consequences that his own fears have created. For him a commitment would be a release, but he rejects anything permanent out of fear that it will be torn away. The impermanence of the montage reflects the impermanence of Rick’s life—no moment lasts because Rick can’t commit to it.

At one crucial point in the film, a Father in a cathedral preaches that suffering and trials should be viewed as a blessing from god. “To suffer binds you to something higher than yourself.” The film acknowledges the statement but more so acknowledges that words like these seem empty and trite when in the mire of existential doubt. A simple platitude brings no comfort when you’re flailing in the water and gasping for breath.

“He forgot he was the song of a king.” Rick is searching for the pearl but doesn’t know that’s what he’s searching for. He’s trying to return to his father—to god—but doesn’t know that’s where he wants to go.

Assigning meaning to this film seems to go against the spirit of it. Perhaps there are some who will find such abstraction pretentions—but the deeply personal emotions explored suggest something more pure in intent. The confusion of the story and the anguish explored and the overall lack of structure and focus on meditation do more justice to life experience than any banal story of redemption. Knight of Cups brings validation to the wandering and a hope that meaning might be possible in a seemingly meaningless world.


S’mores Popcorn

S'mores popcorn

I absolutely adore s’mores, and yet I hate eating them. No matter what, the chocolate isn’t quite melted or the marshmallow is burnt or the graham cracker breaks…

Consequently, many of my favorite recipes are s’mores inspired, but are much more convenient to eat than s’mores. This S’mores Popcorn makes the perfect movie night treat. It’s easy to make, has a great variety of textures, and is family-friendly.

(One note: I always try and use the Ghiradelli 60% dark chocolate chips when baking. They have an amazing melting texture and the best dark chocolate flavor I’ve found in chocolate chips.)

Pair with family movie night and a nostalgic 80s classic. Try Condorman (1981), The Private Eyes (1980), or The One and Only, Genuine Original Family Band (1968).

p5826_d_v8_aa        51hm4zwa4fl-_sy445_        p346_p_v8_aa

S’mores Popcorn

(adapted from Bombshell Bling)

1/3 c popcorn kernels

2 T grapeseed or canola oil

1 c dark or semisweet chocolate chips

1 tsp shortening

1 c crushed graham crackers (about half a package)

1-2 c mini marshmallows

Pop the popcorn on the stovetop in the oil. Transfer popped popcorn to a bowl and lightly salt. Scoop the popcorn onto a parchment-lined cookie sheet, making sure to leave any un-popped kernels in the bowl.

In a separate bowl melt the chocolate chips and shortening in the microwave at 30-second increments. Stir until smooth. (The shortening smooths and thins out the chocolate so that it can be drizzled easily). Set aside to cool.

Once chocolate is cool enough, transfer to a Ziploc bag and zip the bag closed. Cut the corner off of the Ziploc bag and drizzle 1/3 of the chocolate over the popcorn. Sprinkle graham crackers over popcorn, followed by the second 1/3 of chocolate. Finally, spread mini marshmallows over popcorn and graham crackers, and top with the last 1/3 of chocolate.

Transfer tray to the freezer for 10 min or until chocolate is set. Once it is, break up the popcorn into bite-size pieces and put into a bowl for serving!

The popcorn can be put in a airtight container or Ziploc bag for a day before the popcorn starts getting stale.