“I wanted to see him so bad that I didn't even dare imagine him anymore.”
Seemingly birthed from the dust that surrounds him, a man wordlessly emerges from the desert, trudging towards an invisible horizon, his face weary and withered, his memory elusive, his soul haunted by regret and sorrow.
Wim Wenders' Paris, Texas is a melancholic portrait of a broken man yearning for reconnection with a family whom he had left years ago. But much more so, the film is a considered reflection of America's emotional fabric as seen through images of run-down motels, vistas of vast desert landscapes, Travis' sense of anachronism, and the myth that stoic silence equals masculine strength.
Paris, Texas, whose very title suggests a…