What struck me about Days of Heaven was how much of the movie was focused on what was not said, but what was implied by the images and actions. Linda is our main narrator, and yet she is not capable of seeing everything that the viewer is privy to. Instead the viewer has to rely on the visual clues that the cinematography provides. The film does this in an effortlessly beautiful way – for instance, seeing the silhouettes of the farmer and Abby through the window does a more than adequate job to relate to the viewer that the two of them are growing closer. Linda’s childish voice probably wouldn’t be able to explain this or even quite comprehend it.
The last shot of the film was also one that was rather interesting in how it portrays everything that Linda can’t quite say about running away. Her friend is already heading down the tracks, her mind clearly on her future destination. All of the imagery points forward to where the tracks are headed, yet Linda is still looking behind at everything that she is leaving. There is an obvious sense that she is remembering everything that has happened in the duration of the film – yet she is lacking the wordage in which to say everything that she is feeling. Instead the viewer is left with a feeling of wistfulness and nostalgia for what has been, and what can never be again. The symbolism so heavily illustrates what Linda (as an innocent at the beginning of the film) so clearly cannot quite grasp about life and it’s moments. The duality of human nature – especially when it comes to Abby and her brother – is lost on her, and it isn’t until the end of the film that maybe she begins to understand. Symbolically, there is a long journey ahead of her before she quite gets to that understanding.
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