Adrian, your recollection of the reception accorded “Days of Heaven” is quite different from mine. 1978 was the first year I attended the voting meeting of the National Society of Film Critics, and I flew from Chicago to New York a day early in order to see “Days of Heaven” in 70 millimeter at one of the now-closed Third Avenue theaters. I was, obviously, knocked out by the film and was happy to join the large block of critics voting for it at the meeting the next day. It was neck and neck between “Days” and “The Deer Hunter” (which I did not care for) and the voting went through several ballots before Pauline Kael put her voting bloc behind that immortal classic “Get Out Your Handkerchiefs,” which won the best picture award and went on to the total obscurity it so richly deserves. In any case there was certainly widespread critical support for “Days,” as there had been for “Badlands,” when it first appeared. Not every movie conforms to the romantic myth of the misunderstood masterpiece, and Malick, who has enjoyed the patronage of some very powerful Hollywood figures ever since (and good for him!), is not Vincent Van Gogh.