Badlands (Terrence Malick, 1973)

The shockingly assured and visually distinctive filmmaking style of Terrence Malick arrived, fully-formed with his debut feature Badlands in 1973. The circular, contemplative retrospection, painterly images and existentialism that befit Days of Heaven, The Thin Red Line and The New World were in full effect from Malick’s first feature, a low budget rumination on the rage of murders committed by real-life couple Charles Starweather (Martin Sheen as Kit Carruther’s) and Caril Ann Fugate (Sissy Spacek as Holly) in the late 1950’s. But this isn’t Bonnie and Clyde. These outlaws aren’t in search of fame or fortune. These things just seem to happen to them and Kit can give you no better reasoning for why he shot Holly's dad then, "I don't know. I always wanted to be a criminal, I guess. Just not this big a one." Kit’s a strange study, “quite an individual” he’s called later, killing numerous people along this spree but always appearing as cool and calm as he did at the beginning collecting garbage. Actually, other than bolting towards the border, the only thing Kit seems to have put any real thought into is Holly. He knows he wants to be with her, nothing else matters but that and surviving. So that leaves Holly with plenty of time to ruminate on the intricacies of life and love and, in typical Malick-ian fashion, she does so through a soothing, searching voiceover narration that the director would go back to years later in Days of Heaven. The two of them are in a world unto themselves, spending as much time alone living in the woods and driving through dirt fields as they do interacting with anyone else. And everything happens on the fly, as the outside world closes in and our two fatalistic lovebirds make way for Canada keeping a realistic perspective of where this is headed. And, I think it’s safe to say, it ain’t happily ever after.