Bonnie and Clyde (1967)

I recently took a class on the French New Wave, and this film came up. Evidently, just like the New Wave filmmakers had been inspired by American films, Hollywood started taking cues from across the pond.

This film would not have been the same without the French New Wave; it very likely would have been better. That’s not to say I don’t love Truffaut’s works and Godard’s and all that, but this film was aimless to me. Nothing really happened. It’s as if the filmmakers drafted the script with a vague impression of Breathless, not understanding that the characters don’t have to change, but the audience should.

They stripped out the art, leaving nothing but forced emotions and beautiful people.

Bonnie and Clyde was the final film I needed to see for the Hollywood Reporter Top 100, and I wish I’d chosen another. For a film that ends with a swarm of pops and bangs, my yearlong journey fizzled out.


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