Badlands. (15.)
Directed by Terrence Malick.
Starring Martin Sheen, Sissy Spacek, Warren Oates, Alan Vint. (1973.) 94 mins. Out on Blu-ray and DVD from the Criterion Collection.
I've reviewed Terrence Malick's first film twice already: first when it got rereleased in cinemas sometime in the first half of the decade and last year when Warners released it as one of their dual play Premium edition releases, so go here for the review. Criterion's version offers a restored 4K digital transfer, approved by Malick, and a selection of extras (supplements as they prefer to term them) which throw unexpected light on its creation, both in terms of Malick's approach and the film's basis in a real-life horror.
The surprise is how much the figure of Charles Starkweather hangs over proceedings. I always knew that his late 50s killing spree, alongside 14-year-old Karil Ann Fugate, was the film's inspiration but I didn't realise what a potent figure he was in American culture. Each of the three main documentaries/ interviews – a 40-minute Making Of featuring Sheen, Spacek and set designer Jack Fisk, a 10-minute interview with Edward Pressman and a twenty minute one with editor Billy Weber – mention Starkweather and Fugate. Weber recalls him being a bogey man of his childhood and hoping he didn't make it to Los Angeles.
The disc also includes a 1993 episode of the TV program American Justice, a twenty-minute round-up of his crimes and the state's retribution, that shows how Badlands' looking glass reflects and distorts their story. Basically, Malick emasculates him, toning the brutality right down and giving the pair's actions a passivity and innocence.
Though the tone is generally oh-he-is-such-a-genius gush, you do get some idea of how difficult Malick must have been to work for. Plenty of experienced film people quit the low-budget production convinced the director, still in his twenties, didn't know what he was doing. Those that stuck with him all attest to his being someone who always knew what he wanted, even if he had to search around to find it. Increasingly Malick's subsequent films suggest someone who doesn't know what he wants and is just constantly shooting in the hope of finally finding something. Perhaps he does still know but has just lost his ability to find it.
Whatever, first time out it worked and worked beautifully. Badlands is one of the few films you can call a masterpiece and not look embarrassed. It's chilling and euphorically so, one of the few films – I can only think of Touching The Void and a few Nicholas Roegs – that really pinpoint what it is to be human, the ambivalence of being simultaneously something incredible and close to nothing at all.
Extras
“Charles Starkweather,” a 1993 episode of the television program American Justice, about the real-life story on which the film was loosely based on.
Restored 4K digital transfer, approved by director Terrence Malick, with the uncompressed monaural soundtrack on the Blu-ray edition
Directed by Terrence Malick.
Starring Martin Sheen, Sissy Spacek, Warren Oates, Alan Vint. (1973.) 94 mins. Out on Blu-ray and DVD from the Criterion Collection.
I've reviewed Terrence Malick's first film twice already: first when it got rereleased in cinemas sometime in the first half of the decade and last year when Warners released it as one of their dual play Premium edition releases, so go here for the review. Criterion's version offers a restored 4K digital transfer, approved by Malick, and a selection of extras (supplements as they prefer to term them) which throw unexpected light on its creation, both in terms of Malick's approach and the film's basis in a real-life horror.
The surprise is how much the figure of Charles Starkweather hangs over proceedings. I always knew that his late 50s killing spree, alongside 14-year-old Karil Ann Fugate, was the film's inspiration but I didn't realise what a potent figure he was in American culture. Each of the three main documentaries/ interviews – a 40-minute Making Of featuring Sheen, Spacek and set designer Jack Fisk, a 10-minute interview with Edward Pressman and a twenty minute one with editor Billy Weber – mention Starkweather and Fugate. Weber recalls him being a bogey man of his childhood and hoping he didn't make it to Los Angeles.
The disc also includes a 1993 episode of the TV program American Justice, a twenty-minute round-up of his crimes and the state's retribution, that shows how Badlands' looking glass reflects and distorts their story. Basically, Malick emasculates him, toning the brutality right down and giving the pair's actions a passivity and innocence.
Though the tone is generally oh-he-is-such-a-genius gush, you do get some idea of how difficult Malick must have been to work for. Plenty of experienced film people quit the low-budget production convinced the director, still in his twenties, didn't know what he was doing. Those that stuck with him all attest to his being someone who always knew what he wanted, even if he had to search around to find it. Increasingly Malick's subsequent films suggest someone who doesn't know what he wants and is just constantly shooting in the hope of finally finding something. Perhaps he does still know but has just lost his ability to find it.
Whatever, first time out it worked and worked beautifully. Badlands is one of the few films you can call a masterpiece and not look embarrassed. It's chilling and euphorically so, one of the few films – I can only think of Touching The Void and a few Nicholas Roegs – that really pinpoint what it is to be human, the ambivalence of being simultaneously something incredible and close to nothing at all.
Extras
“Charles Starkweather,” a 1993 episode of the television program American Justice, about the real-life story on which the film was loosely based on.
Restored 4K digital transfer, approved by director Terrence Malick, with the uncompressed monaural soundtrack on the Blu-ray edition
- Making “Badlands,” a 2012 documentary featuring actors Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek and art director Jack Fisk
- Interviews from 2012 with associate editor Billy Weber and executive producer Edward Pressman
- PLUS: An essay by filmmaker Michael Almereyda
