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.
德克萨斯州的巴黎, Párizs, Texas, 德州巴黎, 파리, 텍사스, Paris Texas, Paris, Texas, Փարիզ,Տեխաս, París, Texas, Париз, Тексас, パリ、テキサス, Париж, Техас, Paříž, Texas, Παρίσι, Τέξας, פריז, טקסס, Paryż, Teksas, Париж, щата Тексас, 巴黎，德州, Pariz, Teksas, პარიზი, ტეხასი, Paryžius, Teksasas, Paris ở Texas
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The scene with Travis and hunter running across the road on opposite sides is honestly one of my favourite scenes in the history of cinema.
- H-how can you have two fathers?
- Just lucky I guess...
“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 is weary and withered, his memory elusive, his soul haunted by sorrow.
Wim Wenders' Paris, Texas is a melancholic portrait of a broken man yearning for reconnection with a family 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 melding of…
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
That scene, you know the one, is posed a bit like a priest's confessional box, right down to a separation of perspective, a wall where one cannot see the confessing individual. They are separated by a mirror, and this lets Wenders and his clever little crew impose the faces of each person involved on that of the other, letting their identities blend.
Every inch of that scene is calculated to build the emotional impact. From the way Travis turns his back before starting his confession to the bare, exposed insulation on the other side of it, everything speaks to the emotional states present, feeding our senses with the stark, soul-baring, cathartic Moment.
If this film were nothing more than that…
🙍🏼♀️ | 📞👨🏻
me: 😭
movies can be so sick sometimes
Fine ass girl like that I woulda treated her right 🤦🏻♂️
Did more for pink sweaters than the entire Barbie catalog.
"i didn't want to use him to fill all my emptiness."
as close to perfect as movies can get. i really love how bittersweet it is, it's like you're warm and cozy for a couple of minutes but then you're freezing, truly an amazing depiction of life and the human experience and one of my absolute favorite films.
sad yeehaw
Paris, Texas > Paris, France
A patient, regretful, soft-spoken neo-western odyssey about getting "lost in a deep, vast country" where nobody knows you for half a boy's lifetime, about memories so painful that deliberately repressing/forgetting them and wandering a shameful purgatory is far easier than saying them out loud... Let alone actually trying to fix what you might have broke in a movie a long, long time ago. One of the most soulful and sad movies I've ever seen, containing some of the most vibrant loner poetry desert landscape/urban architectural photography ever committed to film by Robby Müller, and made all the more beautiful and haunting by the aching twangs of Ry Cooder. The choice to basically never put Stanton or Kinski in the same room as one another (with clever visual/sonic use of cars, home movies, phones, window glass and reflections to make this possible), even in that final scene, is one I'll be thinking about for a while.
