I watched this...

...last year when trying to get through the list, but never wrote it up.

Highly, HIGHLY stylized and fictionalized film on the way to viewing and writing up my feelings on the AFI Top 100 (10th Anniversary Edition).

Tough thoughts on this one may occur.  Or not.  Not sure.

Film 67

67.  "Bonnie and Clyde" (AFI Rank #42)

This film is credited, whether rightly or wrongly, with breaking a great number of barriers.  Things that it gets  credit for (undeserved in most cases) include:  showing a gun firing and causing injury (death) in the same frame (had happened before); nudity (doesn't actually happen); the first real wide use of squibs to show bullet damage.  As I've pointed out, some of these barriers weren't actually broken by this film, but it does get credit for them.

Released in 1967, and starring Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway in the highly, HIGHLY fictionalized telling of the tale of the real life criminals Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow, this film was regarded as little more than pap by the studio.  It was given limited release, and it wasn't until some critics started lauding it (most notably a fledgling critic named Roger Ebert), that the film was given a wide release, where it gained traction, and made Warren Beatty a very rich and powerful man.  A pet project of Beatty's, he produced the film for 40% of the film's gross, rather than a fee.  The studio, having so little faith in the project, figured it had gotten a bargain.  Of course, the film went on to gross over $50 million in its initial release.  That's $20 million in 1967 dollars for Beatty, if you're keeping score at home.

Why, though?  Why this film?  What about it so captivated the American public?

As I've said twice now, this film is hardly historically accurate.  A great number of details are actually taken from real life - but they are taken from OTHER criminals' real lives.  For example, there is a wildly funny scene in which C.W. Moss (Michael J. Pollard) parallel parks the getaway car, and can't, you know, get away.  Not quickly anyway.  It's terrific.  It's tense.  The first murder in the film happens as a result of it, and it happened, for real...to John Dillinger and William Shaw.  There are a great number of other things that happen in the film that were taken from other people's lives.  I'm not going to list them all.  You can go find the same information I did.

One other thing that is HUGELY important to the plot of this film that didn't happen, however, is the capture and humiliation of lawman Frank Hamer (Denver Pyle), of the Texas Rangers.  In reality, this never happened, and its inclusion in the film gives a sense of vengeance to the finale that...well...I'm not sure needs to be there.  Maybe it does, as it is kind of hard to swallow criminals just being gunned down for their crimes with no trial, etc.  But, that's what happened to a great number of the most wanted criminals back in the day, be it Bonnie and Clyde, or John Dillinger, or Pretty Boy Floyd.  These criminals, while clearly murderous sociopaths, were never given the benefit of trial.  No, they were gunned down, often in cold blood, as...well...as an example.  The criminal element that arose in the depression were largely lionized by the public, and became folk heroes.  I think law wanted everyone to know that they were the bad guys, and didn't deserve the praise.  So, they killed them, rather than bring them to justice in the manner that the Constitution actually lays out.  It was a dark time.

I'm straying off course.

So, Randy, what is it about this film, which is really just an amalgamation of a bunch of criminals, that so appeals to critics and to movie historians as to be considered...great?  You still haven't gotten to that.

Truth is...I'm not sure.

Look, this is a thrill-ride of a film, one that has us questioning our own judgments about good and bad, right and wrong.  The murder that takes place as a result of C.W.'s bungling by parallel parking a getaway car, is a shocking, horrible moment.  Yet, we still find empathy and sympathy with the people who carried it out.  They are still the protagonists of the film, and no matter what their activities, we find ourselves drawn to them, and rooting for them.  In a way, the film mimics what happened in real life.  We get caught up in the thrill of watching what is happening.  We get caught up in the personalities we see on screen.  We get caught up in any number of things we probably shouldn't.  I guess that is what makes the film great.  Its ability to capture a side of us that yearns for the freedom to do things with few consequences.  Until, as the film has to do to us, the weight of the actions prove to be too much, and consequences escalate to a point of being out of control.

Let's talk direction.  Directed by Arthur Penn, this film is incredibly stylized.  One can feel the hand of the director all over it.  That can be a bad thing, but in this case, it seems to work.  Utilizing camera work that is largely in our face at times, and often incredibly tight, this film really pushes its sense of adventure on us.  One scene, in particular should be noted.  Late in the film, as Bonnie pines for her family, and her inability to see them, a reunion of sorts is arranged somewhere in the Texas prairie.  The entire scene is shot with a window screen over the camera, to give it a hazy, nostalgic feel.  It's hardly noticeable, but it's there.  It feels as if we're, well, a little drunk on the moment.  No moment is really focused on, as the entire scene plays out, kind of off in the distance.  The camera seems more a spotty observer of the moment rather than a driving force, making us watch certain things.  No, it seems like a guy surveying a family reunion.  Off over there, the kids are playing on a hill.  There's a guy showing off a gun.  There's some people laughing.  It's masterwork, and it really helps bring home some humanity, as the film is flying towards its inevitable bloody conclusion.

Acting in this film is largely mediocre.  With powerhouses like Gene Hackman, Faye Dunaway, and Warren Beatty, this film has the potential to blow the doors off, acting wise.   Dunaway is one of only two women to appear in 3 films on the list (that didn't appear in a sequel - Talia Shire and Diane Keaton appear in two "Godfather" films, thus making that elusive 3 film thing) of the AFI Top 100.  She's a game-changer.  The film, however, never achieves greatness in acting, focusing, instead, on story.  The film was awarded two Oscars.  One for cinematography, and one came to Estelle Parsons, for her portrayal of Blanche Barrow, Clyde's sister-in-law.  I'm going to say this, and I doubt I'm alone.  I cannot imagine a less-deserved Oscar than Parsons'.  Her portrayal of Blanche largely ranges from shrieking wildly to shrieking less wildly.  These were choices of the director and producer, but to award such lazy and downright awful performing...well.  The character is a cipher.  The acting is laughable.  Yet, Estelle Parsons has a trophy that she needs to dust.  It's a travesty of a performance, and a travesty of an award.

In fact, ultimately, that's my take away from the entire film.  I get why it's important, but it didn't move me, because it always felt just off, and that it was really focused on the wrong things.  I think moments of it are masterful.  I think, in mass, however, that it leaves me pretty flat.  I've seen it twice now, so I can't blame it on an inability to keep up, like I could with "Chinatown" the first time.  This film is great.  It's important.  It also doesn't do a lot for me.  It's impotent.

Heh.  And there it is.  Impotence is a major theme in the film.  It's also my opinion of it.  It has all the teeth, all the tools to make it great.  It feels like it misses, though.  At least it does to me.  I'm probably out of step on that, and that's fine.

I can defend my opinion with the last scene.  Bonnie and Clyde, in real life, were ambushed on the road, not trying to help a friend, but just driving down the road.  They were gunned down in a hail of bullets, ripped to shreds.  There was no great "I love you" moment passed between them, as both were killed instantly by the first volley.  They were then massacred beyond reason because...well...because. The Hollywood feel of the assassination (and that's the proper term) at the finale doesn't ring true to me, and I don't feel sadness.  I feel nothing.  Maybe that's what I'm supposed to feel.  I don't know.  I want to feel something though, and I don't.  I know that this style of violence had not been shown before, and I can recognize its importance for that, but it still feels awfully clean.

I should mention one scene that I do love, however.  The scene in which the Barrow gang kidnap Gene Wilder and drive him around in his own car is tremendous.  It's a brilliant scene, and I'm not going to deny that.  It was Wilder's film debut, a man who went on to what can only be described as an astonishing career, and we see why in his brief moments in this film.  See?  I can see greatness in this.  I can.

Ebert's original review largely helped make the film, and the film's success largely helped make him.  A link to it is here.  It is odd that he didn't include this film in his essays on "Great Movies" at the end of his life.  Maybe he felt the review he wrote in 1967 was good enough.

Thanks, again, for reading.  It means a lot to me.