| The Thin Red Line (1998) |

In the history of American cinema, it's doubtful that there is another filmmaker like Terrence Malick. His reputation rests on two visually-stunning, haunting films made in the 1970s, BADLANDS, which re-interpreted the Charles Starkwell-Carol Fugate murder spree of the 1950s, and DAYS OF HEAVEN, an almost biblical romantic triangle. Both were well-crafted, received critical kudos, achieved cult status and hardly set any box-office records. Malick as a movie maker is less interested in conventional storytelling and more concerned with creating philosophical mood pieces. Frequently employing voice-over narration, there are long stretches in the films that are wordless. One feels that perhaps he is was born too late, that he could have achieved success when films were silent. Yet each is distinguished by haunting naturalistic imagery. One thinks of the vistas against which Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek move in BADLANDS or the stark farmland in DAYS OF HEAVEN. These are works of art, unconventional, moody. Not much seems to happen yet much occurs. Malick is both painter and poet rolled into one, using film in a personal manner and speaking in an unique voice. DAYS OF HEAVEN was released in 1978 (after a two-year gestations period in the editing room) and Malick seemed poised for anything. So, it was surprising that he seemingly walked away and disappeared. An eccentric, he has acquired an almost Garboesque aura. In the late 1980s, he reportedly began work on the script for his third feature, THE THIN RED LINE, an adaptation of James Jones' war novel. Around the same time, there was talk of a Broadway debut as a playwright, but that project (SANSHO THE BAILIFF) fell through. After nearly a decade, Malick returned to work behind the camera to shoot his meditation on war and its effects in Australia. The media went into overdrive and the heavily hyped film, his first in 20 years, has made it to the screen. If one remembers that to approach a Malick film, one must put aside all notions of convention and allow the material to unfold in its way, THE THIN RED LINE (which according to the novel refers to the separation between madness and sanity) proves to be a flawed masterpiece. Clocking in at close to three hours, it is a tad overlong and there are some sequences that one might argue could be excised without sacrificing the intent. Still, there is much to admire as well. The first sequence in the film shows a crocodile skimming along the surface and then there is an interlude which shows two AWOL soldiers enjoying life among the Melenesian natives. After this idyll, in which the director introduces one of the film's main characters, Witt (played by James Caviezel in a star-making turn), who philosophizes in voice-over, the men are captured and returned to combat. The action shifts to show the preparations for the battle of Guadalcanal which forms the backdrop for the main events. Soldiers come and go, and as narrative is not one of Malick's strong suits, it takes a major commitment by the audience in viewing the film. Superbly shot by two-time Oscar-winning cinematographer John Toll, the film begins to acquire an hallucinatory beauty. The lush greenery of the jungle recalls Eden and Malick's intent seems to be to retell the Genesis story of the fall of man with Witt as Adam. There are arresting sequences, such as an attempt to take a bunker held by Japanese soldiers, and a strafing of a Japanese stronghold that easily can be seen as an allegory for Vietnam as well. There is no one central character that dominates the action. Malick, like fellow maverick George Lucas, is not known as a director's actor, so the cast is almost superfluous and interchangeable. Cameos by "name" actors like George Clooney and John Travolta detract a bit, and the novel's narrator, Fife (played by Adrien Brody) has been reduced to a virtual walk-on with perhaps two lines. Instead, the writer-director focuses briefly on certain characters. Those who come to dominate the most screen time are Tall (Nick Nolte in one of his best screen performances), the aforementioned Witt, Bell (well-played by Brit Ben Chaplin), who has reveries about the wife he left behind, and Staros (a strong Elias Koteas), a lawyer by training who parses orders in order to save the lives of the men in his command. Sean Penn, dropping the 'Actor' mannerisms that sometimes overpower his performances, also has a few quietly affecting moments in what feels like a truncated role. Malick's film has drawn comparisons with Steven Speilberg's over-praised (at least in my opinion) SAVING PRIVATE RYAN both of which contained similar plot points (a beach landing, taking a German bunker, etc.). Such debate, though, reminds me of what occurs in the realm of Broadway musicals with partisans of Stephen Sondheim squaring off against those of Andrew Lloyd Webber. It is clearly an academic issue. There is room for both: the popular (Spielberg, Lloyd Webber) and the esoteric (Sondheim, Malick). Each will have champions but those open-minded individuals who are willing to sample and/or to embrace both will be the more enriched. I suspect that Malick's film will require repeated viewings and that it will eventually acquire the status it deserves. Like his two other produced features, it is one-of-a-kind. Rating: B+ MPAA Rating: R for realistic war violence and language Running time: 170 mins. |
| © 2005 by C.E. Murphy. All Right Reserved. |