Natural Born Killers (1994) is not so much a movie as an American
nightmare come to life. Loosely based on a story by Quentin Tarantino, starring
some of the wildest actors in Hollywood at the time, and boasting a level of
violence that unfortunately inspired copycat crimes, it is the textbook
definition of controversial. In all fairness there are important messages
amidst all the violent mayhem, but director Oliver Stone throws so much content
at the screen that these messages can sometimes get lost in the carnage.
Even though the
movie came out more than two decades ago it still has a legendary status, which
I learned about while reading a chapter in a book about Tarantino’s career. The
book, Quintessential Tarantino,
contained a lot of interesting facts about the making of the movie and also
spoiled the ending, but reading a few words that describe a killing spree is
very different than seeing it portrayed on screen. A few years ago the
director’s cut became available on Netflix, which gave me another opportunity
to go on a drug trip even though I have never taken any drugs.
On paper the
story is not that original since it follows a couple feeling rejected by
society who go on a crime spree. Terence Malick did it with Badlands, we see it in Bonnie and Clyde, and even Tarantino took
a crack at it a year before Natural Born
Killers with the screenplay for Ridley Scott’s True Romance. However Oliver Stone’s movie stands out because of
all of the many, many stylistic choices he makes while telling the story of
killers Mickey (Woody Harrelson) and Mallory (Juliette Lewis). For instance
while depicting Mallory’s abusive home life Stone shoots the scenes as if they
were for a TV sitcom replete with a laugh track. He even hired comedian Rodney
Dangerfield to portray her sexually abusive father.
The point of
those choices was perhaps to satirize a sitcom like Married with Children, which I must admit I have seen often and
found amusing, but that show often sexualized the main character’s teenage
daughter. Those choices also makes you root for Mallory when she falls in love
with Mickey the meat deliveryman and they decide to kill her parents and run
away together. My sympathy waned for them when they started killing random
people across the American southwest and when Mickey raped a hostage.
However as
heinous as their crimes may be, Mickey and Mallory achieve what many Americans still
crave today: fame. It is a sad fact that people often remember the names of the
killers better than the names of the victims, which is in part due to media
coverage. Wayne Gayle (Robert Downey Jr, at his zaniest) a TV producer who
specializes in sensationalizing crimes with his show American Maniacs represents this facet of the culture, giving the
two killers cult status. Over the last two decades terrorists have become
America’s de facto bogeymen, but the sorts of killers that would be featured on
Gayle’s show are still popular. In the last two years alone there have been
shows about the crimes of O.J Simpson, the Menendez brothers and Andrew
Cunanan.
The American
justice system also does not come out unscathed in Stone’s movie. When Mickey
and Mallory are finally stopped, they are not caught by a crack team of
professional FBI agents, but by Jack Scagnetti (Tom Sizemore) a violent detective
who gets away with strangling a prostitute in his hotel room. (Scagnetti is
mentioned in Reservoir Dogs, so it could
be argued Tarantino started the whole Shard Universe thing way before Marvel
Studios.) As for the prison system, Tommy Lee Jones portrays with manic energy
corrupt warden Dwight McClusky who agrees to have Gale interview Mickey in
prison for a special that will air after the Super Bowl. No doubt about it,
they would make a killing with the ratings.
The worst thing a
movie can be is boring, and that is certainly not the case with Natural Born Killers. It covers a slew
of important subjects, the performances all feel like a high-wire act and of
course the violence is unrestrained. However stylistically there is so much
going on, from the use of black and white photography, the frenzied editing,
animation and the use of odd colour schemes that by the time it all comes to a
crashing conclusion you feel emotionally drained. Oliver Stone has yet to
direct a movie that is as infamous, probably because he used every trick in his
book with this project. Sadly n this age of both true crime and reality TV the
horrid tale of Mickey and Mallory remains as relevant as ever.
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