A daylight western that descends into a neon-lit aesthetic
How can a film about a dysfunctional family become a post-modernist classic? Director Wim Wenders masterfully answers the question with “Paris, Texas.” A tale of a family separated under mysterious circumstances is told with such complexity and nuance that it leaps from the silver screen into our lives. But one may wonder how Wenders creates such a strangely addictive piece of cinema, so I will try to lay out all the integral post-modernist elements of this masterpiece and explain why they work.
Let’s start with genre-blending, which is done in such a sophisticated and visual way that even though it’s noticeable, it’s never distracting. Conversely, it’s fascinating to watch. Throughout the movie, I had one main thought that proved itself truthful time and time again: “Paris, Texas” is a daylight western that descends into a neon-light aesthetic. The movie starts with a pure western turn. A raggedy character in the middle of a desert is looking at the vast plains of Texas. We also have a western score to top it off. It’s a classic trope. Then Wenders starts purging the western out of the movie piece by piece. First, we move from an arid landscape to the hills of California and eventually find ourselves surrounded by Houston skyscrapers. He does it with such a delicacy that it’s enchanting.
Furthermore, he adds another layer of the genre with the movie’s central mystery: what happened to his family? The question piques our curiosity enough, so we don’t get bored or lose interest in the film. Moreover, we have the central romance between Travis and Jane. Even though the movie doesn’t go full romance, its shadow looms over it. We see the romance in the homemade film Travis watches, and his smile tells us everything. We sense tenderness in conversations with his son about her. The presence is there, even if it’s subtle.
Fragmentation plays yet another integral role in “Paris, Texas.” It’s pretty evident that the story and perspectives are fragmented between 3 characters: Travis, Hunter, and Jane. It’s literally a fragmented family. We see everything from Travis’ perspective; he is the protagonist. However, we slowly start seeing glimpses of other fragments of the story. Hunter talks about his feelings, how he weirdly enough has two dads, how he calls Walt and Anne, dad and mom, respectively. On the other end of the spectrum, we hear Jane’s story through Travis. It’s finally revealed what happened between her and Travis, the family tragedy that raged like a wildfire ending in an abrupt separation. The last scene between Travis and Jane is a perfect example of an on-screen division and fragmentation. They are in 2 different rooms, with different lighting and interior, separated by a glass window. In their first meeting, figuratively speaking, there’s a “filter” on Jane’s room. Everything is in red, blue, and whites; she wears a fancy pink top all dolled up. Next time, however, there’s none of that because it’s their last meeting where Travis gives out the whole backstory and a heart-wrenching moment takes place. There’s no filter anymore. There’s nothing to hide. Poppy lighting and colorful clothes are removed, leaving us with the bare insulated wall around Jane’s window. Now, it’s just them, being raw and honest. They can’t even talk when they face each other, having to turn away to say something. It’s separation at its finest.
Finally, we cannot disregard the use of color. The whole movie is engulfed with the palette of red, white, and blue: the colors of America. The colors of the American way and the family they could have had. As soon as Travis returns to society, we see this scheme almost everywhere. But often, he is surrounded by green, representing the lost, broken, and sad. Wenders positions us to think that it’s the contrast between the colors that holds meaning. However, the ending of the movie is all in green. Jane, Hunter, and Travis are surrounded by it, giving us a hint that maybe it’s not about the contrast of the two color schemes but about them bonding to convey a more profound message that perhaps life is not as clear-cut as we thought. We cannot describe it only with contrasts; sometimes, there are moments of triumph and bittersweetness combined.
In conclusion, “Paris, Texas’ could have been another road trip movie with a family looking for each other sprinkled with comedy and an action-packed mystery that leads us to the end of the film. The movie diverges from all the romance, mystery, and western tropes to create something outstanding. The mixture of genres, and the fragmentation of the story, geographically and emotionally, creates a unique post-modernist blend that is irresistible.
