Major Charles Rane (William Devane) returns to San Antonio, Tx. after spending years as a prisoner of war in Vietnam. He gets a hero’s welcome, along with his fellow survivor and soldier, Johnny (Tommy Lee Jones). And what does Rane get for all his troubles? He returns home to a wife that has cheated on him and wants a divorce, a son that is a practical stranger, and a gift of several silver coins, one each for the number of days he was held captive and tortured (plus one!). His life is a shambles but Rane is dealing with it as best he can, until one day a group of redneck robbers come along to claim the silver coins for themselves. Rane does not divulge their location, even though the rednecks torture him and mangle his right hand in the garbage disposal. Rane’s son and wife arrive home, and they immediately give up the goods. The rednecks shoot the boy and woman dead, and shoot Rane as well, leaving him to die. But he doesn’t die. He lives, he recovers, and he starts trying to track down the men who did this to him and his family. In the end, he enlists his treasured chum Johnny, and the two of them travel to a Mexican whorehouse for a final standoff.
Rolling Thunder has long been a favorite of mine, and I finally acquired the blu ray version. Man, does it look good. You can feel the Texas heat, you can smell the body odor, and you can feel each drop of heavy sweat on every one of the brows. This is a classic exploitation film, only done with Hollywood talent. Never once, though, does it feel glossy or does it look down on its story. It knows exactly what it’s about and what needs to get done. The violence if hectic and brutal, and the sense of loss is pervasive. Not only do we feel for Rane and what’s happened to him because of the war he’s finally home from, but the terror of arriving to a land that is now foreign to him, given how much has changed since he went to war. Once again, he is a stranger in a strange land, a place where no one cares about his sacrifice or service, other than to throw a parade, muttering empty platitudes, and then pretend he doesn’t exist anymore. Somewhere in this plastic world, Rane finds his soul again, and once more, it is violence that makes him whole.
Brooding, lyrical, gently philosophical, and splattered with bruising and horrific violence, Rolling Thunder is a quiet masterpiece. If there was a ever a more cogent statement made about the Vietnam War and what it did to the souls of the men who fought in it, I can't imagine what it is. Every actor plays their roles to perfection and every character, from the full-blooded to the sketched, are all compelling. Though the violence is huge and operatic at times, the soul of the movie lies in the quiet moments, between Rane and his new girl-pal Linda (Linda Haynes), and it lingers in the silent exchanges between Rane and Johnny, two men who have been through hell together and can communicate with just a glance. This is a movie that will roll over you like thunder and stick with you for days and years to come. Go see it, if you haven’t, and watch it again, if you have.
★★★★