Random thoughts, organized in no particular order:

Friedkin works with a subtle touch, resisting much exposition in the first act to instead embrace movement and silence to exposit meaning and motivation.

Many times, on the road with our four anti-heroes, I feel as if Freidkin uses dialogue as a tool of poignancy.

On their 218 mile journey, the protagonists are dispatched by their employer with an air of fatalism looming overhead. The crew understands that the job is so risky, their employer is sending a back-up truck just in case one truck (and consequently, two drivers) does not make it.

We the audience must believe that without an opportunity to make the money they are making with this job, they are fated to live and die in the small Nicaraguan village. Once they begin their journey, with this in mind, the serenity of the rolling Nicaraguan hills serves as a juxtaposition to their predicament. Their trucks, Sorcerer and Peligro, serving both as the means to freedom and an early grave, deepen their predicaments such that when we see a overgrown forest, we do not admire its beauty so much as we despise its obstruction. When the expanding Nicaraguan landscape is presented to us from the perspective of a helicopter, we are not captivated by its preservation so much as we are grounded by its almost impassable size.

Friedkin shoots the introductions to all four main characters in different ways. Vera Cruz is only really composed of two shots, with no real master (merely a quick establishing shot); Jerusalem is an erratic assemblage of quick-cuts, entirely filmed with a handheld camera; Paris has longer, more calculated takes, with more complex blocking and framing; New Jersey is a hodgepodge of the above, and, frankly, is not as tightly shot or as intelligible as the other introductions. In all instances of the four introductions, though, Friedkin (or should I say the major studio backing) spares no expense with costume design, extras, and on-location shooting.

The ending is especially poignant, as Scheider, now rid of his responsibilities behind the wheel, seems dismayed by his circumstances. Enduring the expedition by the skin of his teeth, he finds no worth in the money, praise, and booze with which he is greeted. Instead, he dances with a stranger – a misguided but earnest attempt at recovering a certain humanity to his character. In classic Friedkin fashion, however, this humanizing moment of perspective and peace is interrupted by the sins of his past – his old rival gang comes for revenge.

The movie becomes a bit leisurely when the journey begins, taking the time to establish urgency and stakes, their surroundings, and so on; all while the four heroes remain detached and distant from one another.

In terms of problems, I feel that the movie most disappoints with its screenplay. The dialogue is often clunky, unnatural, or just pointless (as in, serves as no propellant to the story/arcs/stakes/etc). This obviously is not Friedkin’s fault, as I feel that he was working with what he was given. This is a large-budget studio feature that infamously fell flat at the box office, given both its close release date to Star Wars and its poor critical reception, so I understand that perhaps some throwaway dialogue/moments were left in due to the compromise or perhaps agreement of several people.