The Thin Red Line Review
by Joe Barlow (jbarlow AT earthling DOT net)January 20th, 1999
THE THIN RED LINE
A movie review by Joe Barlow
(c) Copyright 1999
STARRING: Sean Penn, Nick Nolte, Ben Chaplin, Adrien Brody, John Cusack, Woody Harrelson, Elias Koteas,
James Caviezel
DIRECTOR: Terrence Malick
WRITER: Terrence Malick (based on the book by James Jones) RATED: R
RELEASED: 1998
SEEN AT: Waverly Place, Cary NC
RATING: **** (out of a possible ****)
As a freelance film critic, my schedule is often pushed to the point of overload with the sheer quantity of movies that I'm called upon to see each month. Pen in hand, I approach each of them as a lion might stalk its prey: analyzing, looking for weakness. Try as I might, I'm sometimes unable to prevent myself from focusing more on the individual details of a cinematic work, rather than the overall experience and tone that it creates. I recognize this as perhaps my biggest failing; after re-reading some of my older reviews last week, I noticed that I often judge a film's merit based on the way a few choice scenes move me (or don't move me, as the case may be). I'm trying to be more objective these days, but I suppose it's human nature to occasionally toss aside the big picture because of emotional intervention. Heaven knows I do it all the time in my day-to-day life.
I'm not sure, but I'm betting that director Terrence Malick approaches filmmaking the same way. With his latest offering, the World War II epic "The Thin Red Line," Malick crafts together a stunning piece of cinema that seems heavily rooted in the individual moment rather than an overall 'big picture' or plot line; indeed, conventional narrative storytelling is tossed cheerfully out the window in service to the *scene*. Seemingly unimportant details are given ample (some would say excessive) screen time, as moments which have no apparent relevence to the story are followed via lengthy tangents. These nuances build, however, into an intricate mosaic of feelings and images over the course of the tale's three-hour running time. In a way, I was reminded of the illusionary pictures which often adourn the walls of waiting rooms: look at one up close and you see a group of small, individual pictures.... but stand back a bit and the images mesh together to form a completely different visual.
Divided into three distinct acts, the movie unfolds itself as we chronicle several weeks in the lives of a group of American soldiers during World War II. Through the incredible hardships they are forced to endure, they grow from strangers to friends, and finally into a strange type of family, headed up by the fierce Lt. Col. Gordon Tall (an excellent performance by Nick Nolte), who is so militantly delighted to be in a real war that he looks as though he might burst into song at any moment. War's biggest inconvienence for Private Bell (Ben Chaplin) is the separation from his wife; his devotion to her is as sweet and selfless as any woman could ever hope to have. Woody Harrelson is brash and impetuous as Sgt. Keck, yet Sean Penn's portrayl of Sgt. Welsh is mature and weary-- a man who has seen his share of war and death, and just wants it all to be over.
Malick has inflicted the film with the visual poetry of which he is justly famous. Natural landscapes have rarely been as well photographed as they are here, and his creative use of natural lighting and shadows add much to the mood. And by giving us a "soldier's-eye" view for much of the picture, he effectively draws us into the events our characters experience. Unlike "Saving Private Ryan," which used hand-held, documentary-style photography during its combat scenes, Malick wisely chooses to involve us in the characters' fear by effectively making us one of them, via the camera. The Japanese soldiers are as much a faceless stranger to the audience as they are to our heroes-- during the combat scenes, we never get a glimpse of the faces of any of "the enemy." Only later are we able to realize that they too are people, just as unhappy to be fighting as our protaganists are. One of the film's most unshakeable images involves a dead Japanese soldier, face half-buried in the mud, open eyes gazing mournfully towards Heaven, as if demanding accountability from God.
"The Thin Red Line" also breaks conventions by taking us inside the minds of our main characters, revealing their thoughts to us via poetic voice-overs as war explodes around them. The disenchanted Private Witt (James Caviezel), for example, muses about the futility of war during the film's opening montage. "I've heard people talk about immortality," he thinks. "But I ain't seen it." Private Bell's thoughts of his wife are all that keep him going; whenever things get too stressful for him, he flashes back to happier days. Malick allows us to travel back with him, and we better understand the sense of loss he feels at her absence.
"The Thin Red Line" never allows its characters (or the audience) to bask in the glory and bravada which usually marks this type of picture; war isn't glamorous, and Malick knows it. We're also not permitted to think that man's actions have no consequences on the innocent, either: countless soldiers are mowed down by Japanese gunfire and we barely pause for a moment to register the image... but when a bird is caught in the crossfire, its dying moments are shown to us for an excruciatingly long time before the camera mercifully cuts away. The most overwhelming image for me: the shot of two stray dogs casually nibbling on the bloody dead soldiers which cover the hills. This image is surely as chilling as any I've seen in a war movie, and conveys a much different kind of horror from bombs and bullets. It's a jarring, disturbing visual... but fits into the film so well, so *rightly*, that its presence cannot be questioned.
This film was destined (cursed?) by its reputation even before the first trailer was released, if only because of its director. Commonly referred to as "the J.D. Salinger of modern cinema," Terrence Malick returned to the film world after a twelve-year absence from behind the camera to helm this project. Already a legend based on his first two critically-adored films, "Badlands" and "Days of Heaven," Malick has created not so much a film as a piece of visual poetry. With "The Thin Red Line," he stirs the soul and the imagination, shows us scenes of unparalled beauty interspersed between others of unimaginable horror, and manages to make us feel and ponder what the people on the screen are going through, even hours after leaving the theater. I haven't been able to shake the experience viewing this work, and I hope I never do.
Put simply, "The Thin Red Line" is a masterpiece, woven together so deftly by the actors and director that its seams are never visible through the cinematic cloth, allowing the images to service one of cinema's greatest virtues: its ability to transport the audience. There are those who say the film is too long, and call the "thought monologues" delivered by the characters distracting and nothing more than poor attempts at introspection. They suggest the work could be made stronger via judicious pruning of its slower passages. I respectfully disagree. One of the reasons I thought the film worked so well was the simple fact that it *did* take the time to show the monotony and tedium of combat, rather than non-stop excitement and trauma. It's a decision that, for me, made the film rise far above the typical war movie. To cut one frame from this film would be to slash away a corner of the "Mona Lisa" or "The Last Supper." This film is not about sprightly pacing, and those who complain about its length have, I fear, missed the point entirely. "The Thin Red Line" is Art, with a capital "A," and is meant to be experienced, not watched with an eye on one's wristwatch.
This movie was released in certain parts of the country in December of 1998, but didn't open nationwide until last Friday, which is the same day that I saw it. It's a pity my city (Raleigh, NC) didn't get it earlier; had I seen this before my December 30th voting deadline, I would've unhesitatingly named "The Thin Red Line" as my top film of 1998. As it stands, the film will have to be content with gaining admitance to my inner circle of favorite movies, a short list with also includes "Star Wars," "Schindler's List," "Casablanca" and a small handful of others. Be warned before you head to the theater, however: this is not a movie concerned with taking your hand and gently pulling you through a simplistically violent plot. It's about the sharing of experiences, visual grace, stunning camera work, and the madness that mankind is capable of inflicting upon itself and others. This is a completely new kind of filmmaking-- it's not afraid to delve into internal rationality, long passages of photographic splendor, or slower moments which have absolutely no relevence to the film's storyline, but which nonetheless add depth and shading to the events and emotions being depicted on the screen. This unusual deviation from the norm, I suspect, is the very reason that so many critics have fallen in love with the movie while so many viewers are befuddled by it. Adjust your expectations accordingly, then go see what all the fuss is about.
****************************************************************** Copyright (c)1999 by Joe Barlow. This review may not be reproduced without the written consent of the author.
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