Interactions (between the earth, the sky, the body) as dance — leading into a final sequence in which the movements collapse into themselves, removed from landscape.
At first this seemed a microcosm for U.S. interventionism, in which you have the option to end the life of a "stranger" in return for economic surplus, the decision ultimately ends up biting the family in the end as the option is reversed back onto them (it's no coincidence that this takes place the first year after Vietnam). But the more I thought about it the more I realized that the film seemed to be aimed at a cause-and-effect far less specific than that, and plain and simply, a study of the divine "employer" whom allows this fatalism to develop in the first place.
"At the time, it felt like the most important thing in the world." — Vincent Gallo
In my first log I called the film brutal, and now in my third I think that word doesn't do the film justice: it's quite clearly the saddest film I've ever seen. Everything about the film is sad, every frame of it radiates an intense feeling of pain. As I've often described to my brother during our many conversations about the film, I think…
From the ending of Unbreakable—"You know what the scariest thing is? To not know your place in this world. To not know why you're here... that's... that's just an awful feeling. I almost gave up hope. There were so many times I questioned myself... but I found you. So many sacrifices, just to find you. Now that we know who you are, I know who I am. I'm not a mistake. It all makes sense."
Honestly kind of speechless, but…