". . .it is the violence without sadism. . .that throws the audience off balance. The brutality that comes out of the innocent 'just-folks' Barrow-family gang is far more shocking than the calculated brutalities of mean killers."

Pauline Kael

The year was 1967. I had recently become relatively independent in my second year of college. I had disavowed my freshman-year membership in the Young Republicans and had a little bit of income for discretionary purposes, so I could see the films in town that were within walking distance. That's after growing up in a home environment that only automatically allowed us to see Walt Disney films, Biblical epics, and John Wayne films.

I don't remember why a buddy and I ran two miles, barely to arrive in time to see Bonnie and Clyde, and the only reason that I even remember that much about the circumstances is because I realized I was seeing a landmark film—both in film history and in personal history. It was a turning point.

Bonnie and Clyde completely mesmerized me (and continues to hold up) because of its combination of revisionist history and humor all skillfully composed by a master filmmaker. When I attempted to communicate my enthusiasm for Bonnie and Clyde to my parents on a subsequent home visit, I was met with icy coldness. My dad hadn't seen the film, but he knew that Bonnie and Clyde were not "nice" people—he had grown up during the Depression and knew that they were legendary bank robbers and murderers. He couldn't stomach the idea of any film making a "hero" out of such folk. (Never mind the idea of John Wayne as a racist Indian-hater in The Searchers, because he was an all-American patriot in my father's eyes.)

Thus, I realized that I was now truly independent. My dad could never convince me that Arthur Penn's magnificent movie about these antiheroes was not a fine and worthwhile film. It's definitely an "adult" film in the sense that it requires thinking adults to fully appreciate what goes on during its 111 minutes.

Impressionable types who think that movies are supposed to do all the thinking for them, may come out thinking that Bonnie and Clyde glorifies the outlaws. So will people who take the movies literally and want to see historical accuracy in a straightforward, chronologically sequenced film. More likely, these people will exit the theater confused. What does that final shot mean, anyway?

One way to look at that final scene is to remind yourself that you have been experiencing the film through the eyes of Bonnie Parker (Faye Dunaway) and Clyde Barrow (Warren Beatty) during the entire movie, so it takes a little while to recover from the brutal ending. The final shot that gazes out the automobile is brilliant and disturbing.

Much of what struck me with Bonnie and Clyde was the numerous scenes that linger on inside your head long after seeing the film. Penn communicates visually with such strength that many scenes remain indelible. A few favorites include:

1) The sexually loaded opening scene on the streets of Bonnie's town—her suggestive drinking from the Coca-Cola bottle, her caressing of Clyde's gun, and her daring of Clyde to use it.

2) The scene in which Clyde lets the farmer and his hired hand shoot out the house that the banks have foreclosed on.

3) The botched getaway where C.W. parks the car, resulting in Clyde killing his first victim with a then-shocking bloody image.

4) The first shootout with Blanche (Estelle Parsons) screaming and running in panic with the meat cleaver.

5) The long-range high-angle shot of a despondent Bonnie running across the field as Clyde pursues her, just as a large cloud passes over them.

6) Bonnie's poignant family reunion filmed with a bluish filter, with occasional slower-motion camera speeds. Bonnie's mother warning her not to settle down close by:

I don't believe I would. I surely don't. You try to live three miles from me and you won't live long, honey. You best keep runnin', Clyde Barrow. And you know it.

7) C.W. driving the bloodied Bonnie and Clyde into the transient Okie camp of kindred spirits, who don't rob banks but understand why the outlaws do.

8) That incomparable ending that has been imitated so many times, but never duplicated, as this is the original.

The fact that Bonnie and Clyde holds up and contains incredible acting performances that launched the careers of Warren Beatty, Faye Dunaway, and Gene Hackman gives you another reason to check it out.

Sure there is plenty of action, some great humor, and appropriate background music with the bluegrass pickings of Flatt and Scruggs. But this intelligent film becomes a character study that shows the human side of characters that most of us regard stereotypically as evil. They have values, enjoy life, and have their problems—whether it's Clyde's sexual problems or whether it's a financial one. Clyde gets Bonnie out of her boring west Texas existence with the promise of excitement and striving for dreams, so it's really telling when Bonnie says:

You know what, when we started out, I thought we was really goin' somewhere. This is it. We're just goin', huh?

All I can say is, they did right by me—and I'm bringin' me and a mess of flowers to their funeral.