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...you ever again find yourself sitting in a darkened theater as the opening credits of a Terrance Malick film fill the audience with deep anticipation -- RUN LIKE HELL! As I sat through all 175 excruciating minutes of The Thin Red Line (and its equally excruciating soundtrack), I honestly tried -- Lord knows I tried -- to find something (anything) enjoyable, meaningful, thought-provoking, educational, or just plain worth the $6.50 admission price. I'm sorry to say, the only thing I enjoyed about this sorry excuse for a movie is the bucket of popcorn I finished off well before the movie's half-way point. I had even done my research -- reading Mr. Cranky's review and all of the subsequent posts -- and went with an open mind, but found nothing, absolutely nothing, even remotely redeeming in this two-bit pseudo-philosophical diatribe. Get a life, Mr. Malick, and leave the WWII veterans' lives and memories alone. Love, Mom
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