Paris, Texas

Sometimes something happens with a person in your life that is absolutely devastating, your world is completely flattened and you're left adrift, wandering spiritually and unable to relate to anyone else. The desolation of the scenery in this film, the poor run-down towns in Texas, and the wide openness of the landscape as the little car drives through it mirrors this feeling of being lost after such an event. This is a film that wields a heavy emotional hammer, and it left me with a hollow feeling in my chest.

The pace is slow but it matches the weight of this guy's past, and builds to an extraordinary scene, as he and his old lover communicate with the benefit of time having passed and through a mirror, saying the words which usually end up being unsaid, and coming to a kind of peace. There are scars which never completely heal but somehow we move on, and this film is a catharsis. There are so many other things to love about it too - Wim Wender's use of light and color, Ry Cooder's lonesome slide guitar, and Harry Dean Stanton's sense of what it is to be broken. It's a masterful, haunting work, one that will stick with you.

Moody, slow, absorbing, you lose yourself in this 'love lost' and in many ways tragic story. This film was probably an early warning to us all of how life can easily overwhelm without us realising it. It is also virtually unique in the successful portrayal of a man who is deeply lost in his innermost thoughts that the outside world becomes almost a minutiae. Mr Stanton encapsulates this mood perfectly and this is probably his best performance ever. The most moving scene (and there are many) might be when he reviews some old cine film of his life (a normal happy love story which surely could not have gone wrong so badly)before he walked away from it all. I can't help but think this is a real life epistle which could be a marker for how life has overtaken the human race in the last 20 years.

It might seem odd to call this an "American" film, as its director, Wim Wenders is a German film director, who , unlike his predecessors, Lang, Murnau, Pabst, Von Sternberg , and Billy Wilder, has chosen to remain aloof from the Hollywood film industry. But Paris Texas is as much an American film as Tocquevillle's "Democracy in America" is an American book. Sometimes it takes a foreigner ( In Wim Wenders' case, a foriegner who loves American music, American movies and American literature.) to look into the American soul. In this case,it helps that he is working with a great-and misunderstood- American writer, Sam Shephard, and a great-and under appreciated- American actor, Harry Dean Stanton. I can not begin to convey who poetic, how haunting, and how beautiful this film is, and how artfully it probes the American heart. The scene where Stanton confronts his wife, and tells what he did and why he did it, must rank among the supreme scenes, not just of film, but of human life. It echoed the great scenes of our literature, such as Ulysses meeting with Penelope, and the return of the prodigal son. In short, the only film which goes beyond it in the eighties is Raging Bull, and that is largely because of the volcanic power of Scorsese, that most self-crucifying of auteurs. in short, I would go so far as to say that Paris Texas is more than a "ten'...Like Citizen Kane, like 2001, like Andrei Roublev, like Raging Bull , like the Searchers, like Pickpocket, Tokyo Story, Seven Samurai and Ordet,it is an ELEVEN. Sublime AND beautiful.

Paris Texas is a slow, moody, and delicate study about a man who once ran away from everything and now is coming to terms with himself and learning to forgive himself, by finally facing he people he turned his back on. The Wim Wenders directed movie still today rests in a fairly under recognized status, which doesn't stretch the term "cult classic" when applied to it. Paris, Texas is about redemption, the road, family, and the bleakness of the American Southwest. It contains one of the most memorable and unusual openings ever. We hear Ry Cooder's lonely single note twangy guitar on the soundtrack with cinematographer Robby Müller (Barfly, To Live and Die in L.A. , Dead Man) capturing the majestic vistas, rock formations, and the open desert in his camera. Actor Harry Dean Stanton walks out of the dry and desolate landscape, wearing a wornout black sports jacket and dusty red baseball cap. It's a beautifully staged opening sequence. A perfect start to a perfect movie. This man is lost and in need of being found. It's his brother played by actor Dean Stockwell ("Quantum Leap", Blue Velvet) who gets word of Stanton's whereabouts and goes after him, which begins the journey of redemption. Nastassja Kinski plays Stanton's young x-wife and the true love of his life. Kinski, the daughter of legendary German actor Klaus Kinski, doesn't make her entrance into the film until the later reels, but her lingering presence is felt throughout. It's almost the same type of thing that Coppola did by not having Brando appear in Apocalypse Now until the conclusion. The scenes that Kinski does have in the end with Stanton are some of the best moments ever captured on film. They're highly emotional and will cause even the most hard-hearted to shed a tear. Both Stanton and Kinski are very subtle and understated in their acting. It's true to their characters. Eight year old Hunter Carson plays Stanton's biological son, who was raised by his uncle (Stockwell). Carson certainly deserves mention in any conversation about great child performances on film. Paris, Texas is a masterpiece. There's no way around it. It's a movie that slowly reveals itself putting the audience right in the shoes of Stanton, who also is trying to remember his past and face it. The story was penned by playwright and actor Sam Shepard, though he doesn't appear in the film. Shepard, a very good playwright, has outdone himself with Paris, Texas surpassing his perhaps more well known, True West. Paris, Texas is a film that must not only be seen, but experienced. Sure the pacing is extremely slow, but as an audience member, use that to your advantage to suck in the picturesque orange southwest desert against the deep blue skys, and the poignant acting, and haunting soundtrack. There's no reason not to treat yourself to this uniquely American masterpiece meditation. It would make a great nightcap for a triple feature with two other simular themed American films, The Searchers and Taxi Driver.

It's hard for me to select just one movie as my very favorite, but if I had to, "Paris, Texas" would probably be it.

As I recall, I first saw it while I was a student in a small theater in '84 or '85; a year or two later I recorded it from cable to Beta tape. After not having watched it for years, I've played it again a few times over the last couple of years. Many movies I recall having liked in the past are just big disappointments when I watch them years later. That's not the case with this one! Then I was single; now I'm married. That alone makes a big difference, but I also find that even some small elements now have more meaning. I previously attached no significance to the scene where Travis was determined to find the same rental car in which he and Walt had previously driven. But how often people do sentimentally and fiercely cling to, objectively, unimportant things in reaction to having had their hearts and spirits broken more than a few times over important things. I often recall this scene when observing some instance of this in myself or others.

I am struck by what opposite opinions people have of this movie. If you have few problems relating to other people, or you don't care much about relating to other humans, and little in your life disappoints you over long spells of your life, you will probably find this movie very boring. I sort of envy people in this situation, though before I would want to wish myself to be like that, I pause at how much my life would be changed and how little of my personality would be left, if I did.

I, too, eagerly await the release of this movie on high quality DVD, and hope that my still barely viewable Beta will last til then.

"Oh, Travis."