A mute, dirty, bedraggled man (Harry Dean Stanton) stumbles out of the endless, barren desert and into a remote filling station where he promptly collapses. His estranged brother (Dean Stockwell) is notified and comes to fetch him, bringing him to his suburban L.A. home where the man learns his son has been raised since he was abandoned some years back. After regaining his words and reconnecting with the boy, he determines to locate his ex-wfe (Natassja Kinski), also absent but who has continued to provide support for the child. Wim Wenders’ Paris, Texas moves at an extremely measured clip, studiously studying its main character while beautifully capturing its desolate backdrops. Stanton gives a profound, reticent performance, Stockwell is strong in support, and the bizarre, anachronistic ending has a hypnotic quality like something out of a later David Lynch movie.
*** out of ****