Bonnie and Clyde

The world has a fascination with outlaws. That has always been the case as some of our greatest bits of historical fiction have revolved around outlaws. For instance, as I write this, I have tickets to see a live production of Robin Hood, who, while his goals were altruistic, was very much an outlaw, and we continue throughout the years to adapt his story again and again with a new version just hitting theaters starring Hugh Jackman as the infamous man. But that’s just one kind of outlaw. The world’s fascination goes far beyond just that.

In the 1930s and 40s, there were excessive amounts of outlaw or gang films, rising in popularity with the boom of the film noir genre. Actors like Bogart, Raft, Robinson, and Cagney became famous for playing gangsters who would be brought to justice or gunned down in a blaze of glory in the final act. These films were immensely popular and cheap to make, and the studios were churning them out by the dozen. But all of these films were chasing after the same basic thing: America’s obsession with the modern-day outlaw, the charismatic killer who is charming on film but would be a terror should we meet them in real life. The best kind of these killers were the ones who really existed because we knew when watching films about these people that this wasn’t some calloused fiction dreamt up by a Hollywood screenwriter. These people really existed. That brings with it its own level of fascination. 

And we have that bit of fascination with such real-life characters. How did John Dillinger become the notorious criminal we have all heard about? What led Whitey Bulger into his life of crime? How did Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow meet, and what brought them together as a couple? Each of these characters, and many others, have films dedicated to their infamy because people want to know these details. 

The 1967 film Bonnie and Clyde was an attempt to explore that subject, utilizing the then-popularity of the French New Wave. Director Arthur Penn brought that style with him when he signed on to the picture, juxtaposing violence with comedy and incorporating a style of choppy editing identified with it.  It’s a way to keep us on our toes while watching the many shootouts in the picture while also keeping us a little off balance. The inevitable finale, for instance, is shot in such a way as to not only telegraph what is about to happen, but also catch us a bit off guard by how rapidly it occurs and then is over. There is no lingering on bodies or glamorizing the blood and gore. There is also no scene afterwards to wrap things up. Instead, the lives of these two characters are reduced to a hailstorm of bullets and the slumped-over remains of the two misguided lovers. From there it cuts to black and abruptly ends.

The story opens during the Depression era in Texas when Clyde Barrow (Warren Beatty) meets Bonnie Parker (Faye Dunaway) while trying to steal her mother’s car. Bonnie, who is tired of her life as a waitress, is intrigued by Clyde and joins him on the road, partnering up with him while he robs various establishments. Though the robberies are exciting, they are amateurish and not very lucrative. This forces them to graduate from small-time heists to bank robbing. Around this time, they add the dim-witted C.W. Moss (Michael J. Pollard), a gas station attendant, to their gang as a driver. But C.W.’s botched parking job during a robbery leads to Clyde shooting the bank manager in the face when he tries to jump on their slow-moving car during the getaway, adding murder to Clyde’s list of crimes. 

Tensions increase when Clyde’s older brother Buck (Gene Hackman) and his wife Blanche (Estelle Parsons) join the gang. Blanche and Bonnie dislike each other immediately, with Blanche seen as being flighty, endangering the entire gang. Several shootouts happen, people are killed or captured, and eventually things lead up to a final ambush on a dusty road, a trap set up by C.W.’s father, who has made a deal with the police in exchange for mercy on his son, whom he feels was corrupted by the outlaws. And in the end, just like Dillinger, Bonnie and Clyde end their reign of terror with a hail of bullets and blood.

This is, of course, a somewhat fictionalized telling of the story of one of America’s most notorious duos; this is, after all, a film and not a documentary of events. Things like C.W. Moss, who was an amalgamation of two characters, were simplified or heavily dramatized for the sake of making an entertaining film. The basics were kept intact, though, including some references to Clyde’s sexual problems. This aspect, however, was toned down in the final version of the film in part because of the MPAA and production code and because some of the scenes as written didn’t meet with Warren Beatty’s approval, such as portraying his character as bisexual. Kept intact, though, was his impotency, something rarely seen in mainstream films at the time.

Also rarely seen was the level of violence this film portrays. While this was not the first film to depict blood in a shootout, it was one of the first and the first to show things to this degree. The first inkling of this is in the shooting of the bank manager. This is done through a car window and directly into his face. The film does not cut away from showing the violence of this, allowing the audiences of the time to be shocked at how brutal this actually was. It’s a testament to the writers and performers that we can stay with Bonnie and Clyde after this act, though there is still that fascination with killers that attracts people to characters like this. 

This level of violence reaches a pinnacle in the final ambush where Bonnie and Clyde are riddled with bullets. Francis Ford Coppola would one-up this moment in his ambush sequence in The Godfather, a moment that just goes on and on like it is trying to be a parody of this moment in Bonnie and Clyde, yet manages to avoid feeling ridiculous in its excessiveness. The same feat has been accomplished here, with the graphic gore being shocking in its intensity and lasting a decent amount of time, though nowhere near that of Sonny Corleone’s, and then the film just ends, leaving us to gape in shock at what we just saw rather than the film dwelling on it for us.

The film has a bit of madcap energy and humor driving it, too. The early robberies all come off as amateurish, clumsy, and just plain lucky Bonnie and Clyde aren’t caught immediately. There is no ultimate plan in place and it’s a miracle they survived as long as they did. Later in the film there is a moment when the gang kidnaps a man and his girlfriend while stealing his car. This man, played by Gene Wilder in his screen debut, showcases the blending of dark humor and tension, culminating in them releasing the two when it is discovered Wilder is an undertaker. This bit of news unsettles the criminals and they immediately pull over and kick the hostages back out on the street.

The film doesn’t cast judgment on Bonnie or Clyde. We are shown what they did and what the outcome was, but there is no moralizing or otherwise outside of their bloody end. In that way it really is a throwback to the noir movies of the 30s and 40s. We can imagine the exact same thing happening to Edward G. Robinson at the end of films like Little Caesar and Key Largo or to James Cagney in the finale of White Heat. Hayes Code films required the criminals to pay for their crimes in the end, often dying for their misdeeds. This film, like Dillinger, had the added benefit of being true. 

Bonnie and Clyde is another in a long line of films that tries to present bank robbers matter-of-factly, without glamorizing them. Yet it still manages to do just that thanks to the star-driven performances of the five leads. Even though Clyde is presented as an impotent screw-up who seems to get away more out of sheer luck than any real skill, casting Beatty in that role automatically glamorizes the part. Likewise, Faye Dunaway is always a delight to watch and, opening the film the way that it does by hyper-sexualizing her character, sends a message on how we are to view her in this movie. It takes Hackman and Estelle Parsons to really ground these two and rub off some of this shine. In this way, Hackman outshines Beatty and the film really loses something when he exits the picture. Even Michael J. Pollard is excellent here in one of, if not the best performances in his entire long and varied career.

We will always be fascinated by these kinds of people. That is why true crime movies, series, and podcasts dominate with viewers, and series like CSI, Law and Order, and NCIS consistently get good ratings. Something about these kinds of people draws us in, maybe because they live the kind of life we know is forbidden and we’ll never really experience. Most of us have enough morals not to go down that road, but watching others do it allows us to live that life vicariously. It’s a moral conundrum that we accept in our day-to-day lives because it excites us. But we ultimately understand that the actions of those we are watching are wrong, and they will be punished in the end. That’s part of the excitement, too. We get to see them fly high, then go down in flames. 

Academy Award Nominations:

Best Picture: Warren Beatty

Best Director: Arthur Penn

Best Actor: Warren Beatty

Best Actress: Faye Dunaway

Best Supporting Actor: Gene Hackman

Best Supporting Actor: Michael J. Pollard

Best Supporting Actress: Estelle Parsons (won)

Best Story and Screenplay - Written Directly for the Screen: David Newman and Robert Benton

Best Cinematography: Burnett Guffey (won)

Best Costume Design: Theadora Van Runkle

____________________________________________________

Release Date: August 13, 1967

Running Time: 111 minutes

Rated R

Starring: Warren Beatty, Faye Dunaway, Michael J. Pollard, Gene Hackman, and Estelle Parsons

Directed by: Arthur Penn