"As if Dallas needed another reason to be avoided. One of the scariest movies ever made, this is the story that drained the quirky from the bodies of Errol Morris’s two previous films. With the Rashomon-like changing re-creations, the doomy circularity of Philip Glass’s score, the dead-wrong psychologizing of the Dallas detectives, and some of the greatest dialogue ever not written for film, The Thin Blue Line builds a sense of impending dread better than the clicking incline of a dilapidated roller coaster. It illustrates how comprehensively police can be blinded by the avenging desire of an enraged community. The contrast between personalities is pronounced. Even from prison (for a different crime), David Harris can’t stop smiling. And Randall Dale Adams is incapable of a smile—his eyes wide, still unable to believe this isn’t a dream. But just like Adams’s attorney Edith James says, quoting the judge: “What do you care? He’s only a drifter."