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Dec 09, 2024 Web Exclusive By Mollie Hawkins Photography by The Criterion Collection

When Travis (Harry Dean Stanton) wanders into a rural Texas bar, he is thirsty, disoriented, and covered in desert sand. Above the ice chest, a framed, handwritten sign reads: “The dust has come to stay. You may stay or pass on through or whatever.” Travis shoves ice into his mouth and passes out without a word.

So begins Wim Wenders’ Paris, Texas (1984), a film often described as a genre-mashup of contemporary Western meets road trip. The plot is short and the film is long, at nearly two and a half hours—though not a minute is wasted. Travis does not speak or remember quite how he landed himself in the desert. When his exasperated brother Walt (Dean Stockwell) comes to collect him in Terlingua, Texas, the two drive back to Los Angeles on a road trip of slow self-discovery. In a diner along the way, Walt tells Travis that he and his wife Anne (Aurore Clément) have been raising Travis’s son, Hunter (Hunter Carson) for the past four years—and that everyone assumed Travis was dead. Simple scenes like this one highlight Stanton’s rare talent: he evokes profound emotions without saying a word, his grief evident in every expression.

Travis breaks his silence eventually, right at the moment it becomes unbearable for both his brother Walt and the viewers. “I liked the type: he didn’t talk, period. Forget motivating—the ‘Why doesn’t he talk?’ is beside the point, in a way. He just doesn’t want to talk. Everybody talks too much…Communicating in silence is a powerful thing,” Stanton says, in an interview included in the film’s bonus booklet. Known for choosing roles that resonated with him personally, Stanton found his breakout role in Travis, alongside his equally iconic turn in Repo Man that same year. Both films offer unique takes on America during the Reagan administration. While Repo Man is a satire, Paris, Texas, is a love letter to the nostalgic idea of America, of the open road stretching toward fiery sunsets, gas stations and hotel rooms bathed in the glow of blinking neon signs.

Travis is a broken man, but he is hell-bent on redemption and piecing his family back together. He works to earn his young son’s trust, and then together they embark on another road trip—this time to Houston, Texas—to find Jane (Nastassja Kinski), the wife he abandoned. Earlier in the film, Travis shows Walt a photo of a piece of land he’d purchased in Paris, Texas. His dream was to build a house there and live happily ever after with his family. Paris is a symbol of the American Dream, so close yet so out of reach for our tortured hero.

The cinematography in Paris, Texas is stunning, as restrained and deliberate as the dialogue. Long shots of the flat West Texas desert, the concrete sprawl of Houston, and inventive angles make this film a moving work of art. It’s no surprise that this influential film won over audiences and critics alike, scooping up awards like Palme d’Or, the FIPRESCI Prize, and the Prize of the Ecumenical Jury at the 1984 Cannes Film Festival. Wenders has had a prolific career, directing documentaries, music videos for bands like U2, and other acclaimed feature films such as Wings of Desire (1987), Faraway, So Close! (1993), and Perfect Days (2023). Wenders has certainly earned his spot as a major figure in New German Cinema, with Paris, Texas standing out as a deceptively simple yet deeply resonate film about a small Texas town.

The Criterion Collection’s 4K digital restoration is gorgeous, with bonus features sure to delight both longtime fans and newcomers to Paris, Texas. Behind-the-scenes and deleted footage, audio commentary, interviews galore, and a comprehensive booklet round out this reissue of a film that continues to influence directors, musicians and artists even decades after its release.

(www.criterion.com/films/1502-paris-texas)