All the films from all the editions, including those subsequently removed, presently totalling 1167. An easy way of seeing how…
A place for dreams. A place for heartbreak. A place to pick up the pieces.
A man wanders out of the desert not knowing who he is. His brother finds him, and helps to pull his memory back of the life he led before he walked out on his family and disappeared four years earlier.
"And the LORD spake unto Moses and Aaron, Because ye believed me not, to sanctify me in the eyes of the children of Israel, therefore ye shall not bring this congregation into the land which I have given them."
Thus, did Moses wander the desert for 40 years. And though he was allowed to see the promised land, he was not able to enter it. His only solace was leading others to it, that they might enter and lead a better life than him.
Wenders and Stanton wiped me out with this one. Hopefully I'll one day flesh out the correlations implied above, but for now, the possibility that Wenders has so masterfully woven analogies to the Torah in…
"I knew these people. These two people. They were in love with each other. The girl was very young, about 17 or 18, I guess. And the guy was quite a bit older. He was kind of raggedy and wild. And she was very beautiful, you know... And together they turned everything into a kind of adventure. And she liked that. Just an ordinary trip down to the grocery store was full of adventure. They were always laughing at stupid things. He liked to make her laugh, and they didn't much care for anything else because all they wanted to do was be with each other. They were always together... Yes, they were, they were real happy. And he, he…
Watching Wim Wender's visual lullaby Paris, Texas for the first time, I was reminded how incredible it can be to enter a film knowing very little.
I've been aware of Paris, Texas since Primal Scream sampled a line of dialogue on a favourite song of mine, (I'm Coming Down' from '91's Screamadelica) and with its content, i'd only ever noted the film as being the definitive 'road movie'. That is all the information I carried in with me.
By the end credits I knew, felt even, that i'd just seen something very special. I'd been a passenger to Wim's driver for the duration (2 and half hours), clueless to where the film would go next but absolutely in love with…
A man, so defeated by heartbreak, wanders the desert for four years in an attempt to...
...to what? Find the words? Forget? Escape? We all have felt like this before. Something so overwhelmingly difficult presents itself to us and all we want to do is run away. Just leave. Forget everything and everyone and just fucking walk away. I cannot tell you how many times I've wanted to drop my entire life and go live in the woods. I've been on the verge of destroying my computer and TV and bed and shoes and clothes and simply walking out of town into the wilderness, away from the stifling confines of civilization and its concrete jungles. I want a natural jungle.…
Oh boy, that feeling when you discover your new favourite film! I saw this 20 years ago, but it had none of the impact it had on me upon this viewing. An exercise in exquisite perfection. I am so excited and I just want to watch it again right now, but I will wait for the weekend and watch it with my wife, then I might be able to find the words to write a review.
The broad empty landscapes of dusky Southern American seem impossible to fill, such is the scope and size of the land. Yet one man has walked for what seems like forever, a solitary figure burning with quiet determination, pervading everything around him. With the remnants of home laying far behind life can only move on when this journey is at an end.
The mystery that lies underneath this man's sad, deep brown eyes is in no hurry to reveal itself. Four years spent wandering figuratively and literally through the wilderness has left it buried deep inside, its burning coals the only thing to sustain him for so long. Any tears have long been dried out…
Filme muito belo, que passa sua mensagem sem utilizar-se de recursos apelativos e desnecessários.
O filme é muito bem dirigido (Wim Wenders) e valoriza seus fortes diálogos e imagens. Em muitas cenas o plano é longo e sem cortes, deixando-nos observar seus personagens e deixando esses se expressarem.
Harry Dean Stanton encarna Travis, um daqueles personagens que definem o filme, sua ambientação e ocorrências, não o contrário. A maneira como ele vive o personagem, de forma tanto física como psicológica, é excepcional, brindando o Cinema com uma das melhores atuações dos anos 80.
A aproximação do protagonista com os demais personagens e o ambiente, sua adequação, ocorre de maneira extremamente orgânica e verossímil. Aí que as fortes cores do filme…
an ok film about ...
watch and find out
Full filme on Youtube
The last hour of this film comprises some of the most emotionally powerful cinema I've ever seen. But even beyond that, the whole thing is perfect: the cinematography is gorgeous, the score indelible, and Harry Dean Stanton's performance is transcendent. Truly one of the greatest films about America I've ever seen.
One of the things which is magical about this film, and which many have commented upon, including Roger Ebert, is that when Travis (Harry Dean Stanton) is reunited in the Middle of Nowhere, Texas, with his brother, one really has no idea what the film is going to be about. The plot does gradually reveal itself, but it does so slowly, as Travis slowly re-adjusts to life in the world.
Because the best way to see this film is to know as little about it as possible beforehand, I will leave it at that. I will only add that this is a great film, deserving of its accolades, and that Harry Dean Stanton's performance is not one I'll soon forget.
Paris, Texas is an intimate epic, a film about one marriage, a husband and wife and a son, but also about Men & Women, and also about America--as an idea, a presence. The authenticity and integrity of the film's universe is created by filtering the haunted wounded prose of Sam Shepard through the European eye of director Wim Wenders.
The film is quiet and composed, with scenes unfolding languidly, but with a purpose.
So many disparate elements integrate together with near-perfection. The cinematography by Robby Muller is breathtaking, the wide-open ranges of Texas contrasting to the plastic electric lightfield of LA, and always cars, driving, roads, journeys. The color scheme is lurid, with sickly greens, suffocating blues, and warm reds dominating…
If you're in the mood for a ten-minute masterpiece of performance, staging, lighting and editing:
It works beautifully even out of context, but the rest of the movie is just as great.
One beautiful, sad and well-written journey that you never want to look away from.
Some may think it as a slower film but I think the pacing throughout works for the overall end result.
Recently, I've become aware that certain films are able to transcend the medium by being completely self-assured in their atmospheres…