Blu-ray Review: The Thin Red Line (1998)

It's hard to know where to start when reviewing a war film that doesn't seem concerned with war at all. The Thin Red Line boasts plenty of bullets flying and booming explosions, amidst some of the most compellingly staged scenes of combat you're likely to see anywhere, but its real interest lies in the green parrot sitting in the tree, the alligator sinking slowly into the swamp, or simply the way the light dances on the leaves of a palm tree. Never has a war film showed such disinterest in the actual fighting while simultaneously proving to be a masterclass in depicting warfare on screen. Only Terrence Malick could create anything like it.

Yes, this is a Terrence Malick film, which means lots of shots of nature, inner monologues and poetic navel-gazing. It also means a complete disregard for conventional narrative form. The usual devices that link a scene to the next are largely absent - one scene will be two characters talking, the next a large band of soldiers trekking through the jungle, with no bridging dialogue or apparent cause-and-effect logic - making for a sort of freeform, organic experience. It's far from shapeless, however, for which copious credit has to go to the three editors, who were given the unenviable task of sculpting a feature from over a million feet of film. Out of a cast of numerous big names, some of whom make little more than cameos, Jim Caviezel emerges as the central figure, though even he remains something of an enigma. First found AWOL with the natives, Caviezel's Witt is thrust into the battle for the Pacific, and so are we with him. You can see why Malick emphasised his character at the expense of Adrien Brody's; his story is the most fully representative of the film's theme of natural harmony disrupted by, but ultimately triumphant over, human conflict.

1998 brought us two war film masterpieces, but they could scarcely be more different, not only geographically. Spielberg's exceptional Saving Private Ryan has a clear plot and a clear goal. The Thin Red Line, taking place on the tropical island of Guadalcanal, instead never sets out a story as such; there's no specific arc or objective, other than the capture of the island from the Japanese. Malick weaves a tapestry of scenes together, forming a vast picture of a specific conflict; the film spends a good deal of its time detailing the capturing of a fortified hill, an assault the film details from numerous angles. Malick's handling of the action, particularly for someone not apparently interested in it (a featurette on the disc humorously reveals that he would have liked someone like Renny Harlin to come in and shoot the noisy bits), is incredible, the sweeping technocrane shots weaving through the grass with the soldiers contrasting with raw handheld close-ups when the fighting gets most intense and nasty.

Like other works from the director, the film makes great use of - revels in, even - the emotive power of montage. The sequence starting from when the hill is finally conquered, as the GIs flood into the Japanese camp, to when they receive (not entirely welcome) messages from home, is simply majestic, a soaring release of pent-up emotion elevated further by Hans Zimmer's soaring score. (At one point, Malick drops all the sound effects from the scene, giving Zimmer's music full, deserved prominence.) All the while, weaved throughout are voiceovers by various characters; you get the intention they're meant to be absorbed rather than listened to, their meanings springing forth from the images. If it catches you in the right mood, its beauty and lyricism yield a moving and emotionally exhausting, though ultimately cathartic, experience.



Release Information
Country: UK / Region: Free / Version: N/A / Discs: 1 / Distributor: 20th Century Fox

Presentation
When it was first revealed that Fox would be bringing the film to our shores on Blu-ray, the question was: would they use the Criterion Collection's lauded HD transfer? It turns out that the disc has slightly different technical characteristics, but simply put, it looks gorgeous. It's lush, sharp and immensely detailed; a comparison with the DVD reveals a far more vibrant, colourful, lifelike image. The sound is best when cranked up LOUD, giving the action its true intensity, while not letting the natural ambience get lost. Truthfully, I expected something a little more enveloping, but it's still a damn good, forceful track.

Extras
Huzzah - we have gone from a practically vanilla DVD to a Blu-ray with a healthy set of supplements for a deserving film. They are all taken, in apparently slightly shortened form, from the Criterion Blu-ray. Of course Malick is never seen nor heard from, but that's a given. The commentary from the trio of cinematographer John Toll, production designer Jack Fisk, and producer Grant Hill (whose voice is distinctive due to his Kiwi accent), is hugely enlightening from a technical and logistical standpoint, while offering some glimpses into their elusive director's intentions. The group nature of the chat ensures few silent passages, the three participants sustaining their conversation for the duration.

Featurette-wise, there are three that total about an hour, detailing the actors' experience, the editing, and the music. Given the nature of Malick's process, the insight into the editorial process is particularly interesting. There are eight largely inconsequential deleted scenes - one featuring Mickey Rourke - but, as they last only about 14 minutes, don't give much of a glimpse into what might exist in the fabled 5-hour cut. Finally, there are five vintage newsreel clips. A couple of extras are lost from the Criterion edition.



Summary
The Thin Red Line is unique amongst war films, a moving, methodical, impressionistic odyssey. Terrence Malick's handling of his sweeping canvas and huge cast is extraordinary.