Terence Malick’s The Thin Red Line is based on James Jones’ novel of the same name, though it also combines elements of his From Here to Eternity. It follows a company of soldiers during the battle of Guadalcanal. It is a masterpiece. It’s a beautifully shot, acted and scored, serious-minded film. But you don’t need to study the movie to enjoy it—this is a realistic, exciting and interesting movie that is also more effective as a conventional war movie than it may seem.
That doesn’t mean you’ll enjoy it.
I found it overlong. Some may find the film as pretentious as someone writing he “found” a movie “overlong.”
The movie’s length is substantially increased by a number of shots of nature that are almost without exception beautiful. Malick frequently intersperses these shots to explore larger thematic questions of violence in nature and man. Is war a part of nature? Why do we fight? The fact that he is attempting to address fundamental philosophical questions about the nature of man’s motivation during military conflict gives little solace to people who would like to get on with things already.
Many of these beautiful scenes of nature also feature voiceover narration from—well, we don’t always know from where. Malick shows characters’ internal conflicts by combining voiceover monologues and dreamlike flashbacks—or actual dreams, or people speaking what seem to be interior monologues.
At one point we think it’s a voiceover, and it is revealed to be Private Witt, played by Jim Caviezel, telling a story of his mother’s death—then it goes to flashback where we see his mother dying and, I assume, his sister watching. This story is actually from Jones’ novel From Here to Eternity, but Malick’s fidelity to the larger vision in Jones’ trilogy does not really affect whether this movie is entertaining or not, so I should probably just stop writing this paragraph.
Calling these contemplative scenes sophomoric, pretentious or boring is certainly fair, even though I wouldn’t do it. The questions posed are certainly simple while also trying to get at fundamental questions of existence and war. They also give the characters human depth. The problem I have with calling this pretentious (and I don’t have a big problem with this) is that it suggests that simple soldiers are just that—simple. If I were about to risk my life in a war, I might well be considering the nature of life and conflict.
And this is where the odd things Malick does are actually quite conventional. Extended down time is far from uncommon in war movies. Other will have soldiers talk to each other in the barracks or a bar or something—or there are flashbacks to civilian life. Malick uses voiceover (and, fine, people do also talk in the barracks here) and these scenes of nature as character and thematic exposition. He seeks to give all the characters depth—not just the stars—and that can take more time and effort than many viewers wish to invest.
But maybe it doesn’t take that much effort. Perhaps the exact words spoken don’t matter; they act more like a musical refrain. Malick and Hans Zimmer (whose music has a droning, foreboding, mechanical quality to it—as if in conflict with nature) certainly establish a mood in these scenes.
When we move towards combat, we are wondering about the beautiful landscape that appears peaceful and indifferent to us but is actually deadly. Watching the tall green grass gently swaying in the wind, knowing there are hidden Japanese positions threatening the troops, is all the more eerie because it is beautiful.
The centerpiece of the film is an assault on a hill based on The Battle of Mount Austen. This sequence is tense and gorgeously shot. Taken by itself, the action in this section ranks with that of any war movie. This movie has tremendous camera movement, but it’s also so organic you’re not saying “look at that cool camera movement.” Instead the combat scenes are clear and exciting as the camera moves with or past the soldiers fighting.
This scene with a young Jared Leto showcases the tension and beauty of the action, as well as showing human beings aware they are risking their lives and steeling themselves. It is horrible and beautiful–even my notes are like a haiku: “Beautiful sweeping grasslands; the unseen enemy awaits. Two lead men are shot and disappear; the grass gently sways.”
Almost every soldier in the movie wrestles with fear. Men get orders and pause thinking “hell no” or “Oh my God” before acting. No one seems to just do things; they all seem aware of the possible consequences; they are a clear contrast to the faceless men who Captain Miller (Tom Hanks) orders to their deaths in the first battle of Saving Private Ryan. Human beings are dying in this movie, and they know they may be about to die, and you can see them processing this. The performances are almost universally excellent–every actor seems real.
It is littered with great actors giving strong performances, like Sean Penn and Nick Nolte (Farewell to the King, Mother Night)—especially Nolte. One reason Nolte can be so good is that he is acting with people like John Travolta and John Cusack in small roles that they own.
Nolte plays Battalion commander Lt. Colonel Gordon Tall. The scene with Travolta establishes the pressure he feels, and in the rest of the film we see him responding to it. His reactions under stress are phenomenal—he fights his fear-induced rage as his objectives aren’t met, and his career is endangered, banging his helmet on the ground and stuttering as he tries to control himself and find the correct words. And that last phrase is one key to his tremendous performance—he appears to be struggling to find the words—not delivering lines.
Apparently all officers don’t duck
Penn’s character may be the most interesting, as he hopes for a better world but firmly believes it does not exist. He says that in this world the best move is for a man to “look out for himself.” His interactions with Cavizel are the thematic heart of the film, sort of. The film, like any battle, is bigger than two people. I would feel remiss, however, if I didn’t mention that Penn gives a performance that may be better than Nolte’s. Okay, probably not better than Nolte’s, but really good.
At the end of the assault on the hill, a number of plot points are resolved, and I was thinking “Okay team, great movie.” And then there was more movie. Two more battles scenes and people musing, and George Clooney giving a speech and never being heard from again. It’s a lot more movie, so if you think this movie is too long, you’re justified—but parts of it are brilliant.
The company captures a Japanese position and a significant number of soldiers. The captured Japanese are so other and yet so human. Malick has given his actors enough information that dying Japanese you see for seconds clearly have a backstory, could be giving us their internal monologue, are clearly human beings suffering—and yet often completely alien to the Americans, as different as the jungle and the creatures in it.
And the American soldiers’ responses are varied in authentic ways. One tells a dying soldier he will eat his liver and takes gold fillings from the teeth of the dead (and we later see this man trying to come to terms with his actions), while others seek to comfort them in their final moments, while others are indifferent—or at least attempt to be indifferent.
It is terrible and beautiful.
The movie is long because there is so much, and you can argue about how this movie could have been trimmed down or you could wonder if the original five-hour version would be interesting or infuriating, but go ahead and watch it because there is more well staged and photographed action than in most war movies.
Recommendation
The excellent combat scenes and beautiful exteriors make this movie tremendously re-watchable. You can watch The Thin Red Line on Amazon Prime and Netflix–a bunch of streaming services have it. The Blu ray from the Criterion Collection has some good features.