Call it a minor Malick, or even his weakest, but To The Wonder still stands as a piece of cinema more visually and viscerally enthralling than most made today. It's not a film that needs to assemble a clean, defined plot or character arcs that you can trace from A to B, because it's designed as a spiralling, emotionally fragmented experience meant to mirror that of emotional confusion of the characters on screen. We don't need to see or know why the characters move in an out of each others' lives the way they do, or be let in on the exact moments things sparked or went wrong, because that sort of specificity would undermine what the film is trying to be, and that's to probe what it is that makes any relationships thrive and then often eventually dissolve the ways they do, and how even the people involved in them can hardly tell where the seeds of either began. And even if that approach to the subject matter doesn't work for you, I'm not sure how you can't simply revel in Emmanuel Lubezki's images or Hanan Townshend's score for the entire runtime, each being among the very best efforts of this year or any in recent memory.
If this truly is Malick's weakest film, then maybe he really is the greatest filmmaker alive and working today.