Badlands

Visually stunning, Terence Malick’s ‘Badlands’ provides a compelling odyssey of a murderer and his girlfriend – drifters in America’s South given credence and strength by Sheen and Spacek.

Kit (Sheen) murders his girlfriend’s (Spacek) father in a fit of passion, and the two elect to run away – venturing across the countryside, they continue to kill and survive on the edges of society.

Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek are the two leads, and arguably hold the movie together. What little support there is doesn’t really warrant much attention, as the film is their story. Sheen shows why he was such an acclaimed actor in the dawn of New Hollywood; his drawling, carefree Kit goes from drifter to cold-blooded killer in an instant, and those who cross him soon realise he is not at all as he seems to be.

Sissy Spacek plays the young, lithe Holly, innocently swept up into a life of hiding and running by the influence of Kit. Spacek portrays the character with a real sense of growth – she moves from the innocent, girl-next-door type to someone who feels they can stand up to the one they love.

Malick is infamous for the visual acumen he brings to every movie, and in his debut he doesn’t disappoint. What is perhaps more striking here is that the story actually grips the viewer more than in any of Malick’s other efforts – a rarity from the reclusive, opulent director. Dialogue here is minimal but effective, whilst the repetitive music will remind some of Tony Scott’s ‘True Romance’.

Malick provides a slow-burning but involving story concerning the two fugitives – the conflict between the two grows slowly and with tension, whilst the action is befitting of such a movie. If Malick’s other films were more like ‘Badlands’, he would perhaps be held in higher regard. The dialogue is sparse, but when it needs to be, effective in its use. Martin Sheen’s drawl, foregrounded against Sissy Spacek’s impressive Southern girl narration, provides a brash yet gripping voice to Kit’s random bouts of violence.

Gassenhauer, by Carl Orff, dots the film with a sense of detachment; this impressive piece of music seems to jarr with the Southern settings and quite cleverly presents the detached nature of the two leads as they run from their actions. Malick’s visual skills are perhaps his greatest asset on-screen, and in visualising the murders and the beauty of the Badlands themselves, the director presents a movie that defines a strong sense of place.

This film requires a certain amount of patience to get through – but it’s worth it.

8/10