and speaking of Faye Dunaway...

...one of my favorite early childhood memories is going to a drive in to see ‘Bonnie & Clyde.’ 
I’ll say a few of those words again, just in case they blew by:

Early. 

Childhood. 

Bonnie & Clyde (What a classic.  Famously, gratuitously, deservedly R rated for spectacular sex and violence). 

You just don’t hear those kind of words coupled together these days.  Not without also having ‘Child Services’ somewhere in the mix. 

Sometimes I miss pre-PC times so much it hurts.

And I had great parents.  Seriously, for the times, amazing.  The mom and dad all the other kids wanted.  Transplant them to 2013 they’d be carted off and my sister and I plopped in foster care faster than you could say “That’s really inappropriate.”  

The de rigueur snapshot of my mom 8 months pregnant with me, martini in one hand, ciggie in the other—that alone would probably be enough. 

There was also the daily coffee clutch—though I guess it was really a vodka clutch.  Smoke filled living rooms where kid’s silent obedience was bought for the price of a gin soaked olive.  The only reason I wasn’t suppin’ down the martinis too was my five year old palate preferred things a little more bland.  But I was offered the drink, oh yes I was.

But as I said, it was ‘Bonnie & Clyde’ that stands out.  To say ‘they took us’ is misleading.  It implies the movie was something my parents wanted us to see, an important history lesson, or a wee warning of what happens to those who steal.  But that would be misreading the situation.  We went to a drive-in and my Dad set up a full-on bed in the back of the station wagon. We were expected to sleep. 

In a drive-in.

With speakers less than a foot away.  Graphic sex and violence—tinny, but piped in.

Seriously?

I guess the usual babysitter was…too expensive?  Unavailable?  So was Grandma?  Maybe no one was brought in out of consideration for the health of others… my sister had a raging flu that night, after all.  I won’t say that one twice, just make note.  It’s going to be key later on.

Look, I get it.  They really had to see that movie.  It had just come out.  It was a big deal, even then.  Had to.  Who doesn’t get that? 

I did.  Even at five or whatever I was, I knew ‘Bonnie & Clyde’ was not to be missed.  I loved it.  Every minute.  Because of course I saw every minute.  My sis and I both did.  Duh.  The only part of this story that’s truly ridiculous so far, is the bed in the back and idea we’d sleep. 

And I know Dad genuinely thought we would sleep because my other stand out memory was his response to the burning questions we had: story points, characters, the symbolism, the sex, the violence, you know.  His response was nothing if not consistent: “Go to sleep, girls.”

So, his analysis is lost in time. 

What is timeless for me is Faye Dunaway—and Warren too, but it’s Faye who really tattooed herself into some deep primal cortex of my brain—in the climax of the film.  It’s the quiet hush, just before…Bonnie and Clyde are left alone, unknowingly surrounded…they open the door of their Bentley, start to get out—then BAM.  In fact, bam-bam-bam-bam-bam-bam-bam-bam-bam-bam-bam-bam-bam!  The bam’s go on for a record breaking I wanna say 20 minutes?  I’m not going to fact-check, it was a long time.  They were shot and shot and shot again.  Splayed.  And Faye (and Warren) took every bullet.  Say what you like, Faye Dunaway doesn’t shy away from physical acting.  Squibs were going off all over her body and she writhed away like water splashed on a greasy hot griddle.  It was reeeeeeal.   It was indelible.

And then my sister threw up.  That part’s indelible too.

I shall never forget, not one instant. 

A friend recently told me that he and his wife always ‘pre-screen’ shows like ‘The Mentalist’ or what-have-you before then re-watching them yet again for Family TV night with their 10 and 12 year old.  I was surprised.  But the other parents in the conversation agreed this was good policy.  They did the same thing.

Maybe my parents would’ve pre-screened ‘Bonnie & Clyde’ if they’d had the technology.  And maybe they’d still have let me see.  It is one of the greats after all. 

But I’m being flip.  I get the importance of being careful.  Extreme caution must be exercised when it comes to what you allow your kids see.  Look at me.  Okay, I didn’t become a bank robber, or violent or anything... 

But I did become an Actor/writer. 
Maybe Mom and Dad should've been carted off.