Bonnie and Clyde (1967) review

Dir. Arthur Penn

By: Steve Pulaski

Rating: ★★★½

Remembering Gene Hackman

1930 – 2025

Despite being almost fifty years old, Arthur Penn’s gangster classic Bonnie and Clyde possesses a beautifully modern style and look to it, in terms of cinematography and tone. While adhering to the principles of its genre, the film is fearless in going off on its own tangents and writing its own rules, with two career-worthy performances by two screen legends, and wraparound ideas of self-condemnation rather than directorial condemnation.

The film needs no real introduction, but a simple plot outline can’t hurt. It’s Great Depression-era America, numerous banks have either failed or have been cleaned out completely, the public is pessimistic, with many having just witnessed their financial future evaporate right before their very eyes. The setting is Southwest America, and we meet Clyde Barrow (Warren Beatty), a man just released on good behavior after committing an armed robbery, just as he is getting acquainted with Bonnie Parker (Faye Dunaway), a southern belle who works as a waitress. Clyde buys the two some Cokes, as they make small talk, with Clyde effortlessly defining Bonnie as a person just by the vibes she accentuates.

Clyde recognizes that Bonnie seems unhappy in her current slog and proves to her that he still has the gumption and nerve to conduct a slick stickup before bailing, to which Bonnie finds admirable and brave. Once Clyde proves he still has it, the two set off on a violent pursuit of the American Dream, going to places in one car, but leaving in another, conducting numerous stickups, and picking up other misfits along the way. One of the people they meet is C.W. Moss (Michael J. Pollard), a gas station attendant, who wants to prove to the two that he can be just as dangerous as them. What unfolds is a cinematic road trip involving gruesome murders, devilishly entertaining violence, and ample amounts of visual style and flair.

Bonnie and Clyde was originally conceived to be directed by one of the many French New Wave directors at the time in efforts to try and bring new styles to Hollywood as well as have lesser-known, French directors achieve a namesake in the peak of their careers in America. Famous French directors such as François Truffaut and Jean-Luc Godard were the original choices to direct, but both dropped out either pursuing other projects or disagreeing with parts of the film. The final product plays like an American take on French New Wave styles, toying with the idea of profiling and glorifying criminal behavior in a fashion Godard would in his films like Band of Outsiders and Breathless. It’s interesting to note how Godard’s films went on to achieve monstrous critical acclaim, while, before Bonnie and Clyde could bask in that realm, it had to endure conversations and debates on the acceleration of violence in American cinema.

Yes, Bonnie and Clyde is a very violent film, often showcasing shootouts between the titular criminals and the law in a spontaneous, blink-and-you-miss-it manner that keeps one always engaged and never bored. Yet there’s an element of sensuality to the film that doesn’t always get mentioned in a conversation about the film. Consider the scene in the beginning when Bonnie is walking to work and Clyde, in a tireless pursuit of personal satisfaction, tries to convince Bonnie on his persona and who he really is – a charismatic crook. He gets her to fondle his gun before showing her what he can do with it. Then consider the scene when Clyde has a hard time having sex with Bonnie, despite her ravishing beauty and innocent facial expressions. Whether he’s impotent or unsatisfied, the film never says, but in a later scene involving C.W. Moss, even a threeway is subtly hinted at between him, Bonnie, and Clyde, subtly, but evidently, implying that Clyde could in fact be bisexual or in fact homosexual. Such elements go unnoticed in the presence of great violence, which is why, I feel, it has taken longer for Bonnie and Clyde to be talked about without constantly referring to the graphic violence.

Let us not forget the aesthetic attributes of the picture, which are just as significant as the narrative ones. Penn utilizes some very effective camerawork, focusing intimately on the characters with medium-length shots, and even using French New Wave, Godardian quick-cuts at the tail-end of the picture to enhance the film’s directorial style. The film is an active watch, never settling for bare-basics in terms of camerawork and editing structure (done very well by Dede Allen), nor is its Oscar-winning cinematography by Burnett Guffey (who also won an Oscar for cinematographical work on From Here to Eternity in 1953), showcasing the Southwestern United States, particularly Dallas, with a beautiful, humid visual scheme.

Last but not least are the performances by Beatty and Dunaway, both of whom exercising their characters’ most apparent traits in ways that are equal parts stimulating as they are commendable. Beatty plays slick and charismatic to a tee, while the gorgeous and sensational Dunaway uses more than her looks to get by. Dunaway has the tricky role here, playing a female character who is teetering on the edge of satisfaction and insanity. Once her character meets Beatty’s, however, it’s all downhill for her and she begins to show a closeted drive that seems to be less about fulfilling a quick spout of bad behavior, but almost psychologically pleasing for her id, resulting in a performance that is complex enough to illustrate her emotional gap.

Bonnie and Clyde, along with Mike Nichols’ extraordinary Graduate, were kickoffs to the movement in American cinema called “New Hollywood,” which attracted the young generation with its relatable stories, graphic violence, special effects, grittiness, and interesting ideas that didn’t seem so encased in the same world of unrealistic happiness that the 1930’s – 1950’s mainstream films, such as musicals, were. What unleashed were untameable films that didn’t feel like disguising the often moral ugliness of the world, with directors such as Francis Ford Coppola, Martin Scorsese, Steven Spielberg, Brian De Palma, and Clint Eastwood taking the forefront in the movement. Bonnie and Clyde couldn’t have been a better start to such a bold movement nor could it have better represented what the era was really about.

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