Chicago – “Where is it that we were together? Who were you that I lived with? The brother. The friend. Darkness, light. Strife and love. Are they the workings of one mind? The features of the same face? Oh, my soul. Let me be in you now. Look out through my eyes. Look at all the things you made. All things shining.”
These hardly appear to be the sort of words one would expect to end a war film. And yet, in the haunting final moments of Terrence Malick’s intimate WWII epic, “The Thin Red Line,” Pvt. Train (John Dee Smith) delivers these lines as if they were erupting out of his very soul. It’s the sort of poetic prose that only a bona-fide artist such as Malick could pull off without seeming pretentious. His entire oeuvre is poetry of the highest caliber, from the ever-exploring lens of his...
These hardly appear to be the sort of words one would expect to end a war film. And yet, in the haunting final moments of Terrence Malick’s intimate WWII epic, “The Thin Red Line,” Pvt. Train (John Dee Smith) delivers these lines as if they were erupting out of his very soul. It’s the sort of poetic prose that only a bona-fide artist such as Malick could pull off without seeming pretentious. His entire oeuvre is poetry of the highest caliber, from the ever-exploring lens of his...
- 6/3/2011
- by adam@hollywoodchicago.com (Adam Fendelman)
- HollywoodChicago.com
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