Yesterday I read that Hilary Duff plans to play Bonnie Parker in the upcoming remake of Bonnie and Clyde.
Since this news already had me feeling disturbed, and I was in bed and bored (not a good place to be, I assure you. I need a boyfriend, pronto. Or one with batteries, at the very least), propped up by pillows and loads of caffeine, I decided to visit my old friend Wikipedia and get schooled on Bonnie and Clyde.
For those of you who don’t know the story of Bonnie and Clyde—look it up, you lazy bastards. Google ‘em. Go ahead—and yes, it will tickle a bit. I promise.
I know you’re not actually going to look them up, so I’ll brief you on the details, with all credit due to the diligent and attentive fact-checkers at Wikipedia, who make the site a pinnacle for reliable and consistent information.
Bonnie Parker was a pretty girl who excelled in school and was known for her writing talents, namely poetry. Like most girls it all went downhill when she fell for the bad boy, in this case a very naughty man by the name of Clyde Barrow.
Clyde served a prison term for renting a car and never returning it. Since the prisoner rehabilitation resources were lacking or non-existent at the time, Clyde left his cell a free but pretty pissed off man. He decided to make it his life’s mission to stick it to the man, the “man” being cops or anyone in their proximity while the bullets were flying.
Anyway, Bonnie joined Clyde’s gang and together they embarked on a crime spree spanning the lower Midwest. The nation was gripped in the cold, bony fingers of the Depression, and through the news media the world was entertained and disgusted by the thieving, kidnapping and murders committed by the couple. This may seem a bit lame to you but please be sensitive toward the era: Prohibition was in effect, and Britney Spears was not yet around to amuse us with side show acts including, but not limited to, head shaving and beating automobiles with umbrellas.
Bonnie, Clyde and Co. were heralded in the headlines as the newest incarnation of Robin Hood. It should be noted, however, that while the Robin Hood archetype was known for stealing from the rich to give to the poor, Bonnie and Clyde gravitated toward robbing small businesses and keeping the booty for themselves (and I’m sure booty contributed to the appeal of the crime spree, given the perceived wild attraction between the couple).
The lusty, bloody joyride ended on May 23, 1934, when four allegedly crooked cops put over one hundred bullets through an automobile, killing Bonnie and Clyde.
And this my friends, is where my post actually begins.
You see, last night as I was reading about Bonnie and Clyde, I scrolled down the page and discovered an actual video clip taken just after the couple was killed. I assumed, since the year of their deaths was 1934, that I would be watching a re-enaction of the killings.
But it seems I was wrong. The video clip appears to be actual footage! In it you find the bullet-ridden vehicle, with the body of a woman that the narrator claims to be Bonnie Parker slumped over in the front seat.
I was horrified for two reasons. First of all, I was ashamed that I was so curious about it. I kept peering at Bonnie’s lifeless body, wondering as the clip went on if they were going to do a close-up.
I wondered if it’s my culture. The U.S. is known for its fascination with violence and death. We glorify these themes in movies, books, music. One could too easily describe the capitalist market in terms of violence—“we killed that sale;” “we buried that business;” “He kicked ass in the merger.” Even Roosevelt’s “speak softly and carry a big stick” quotation that somewhat defines our country has an ominous, threatening tone to it.
The media thrives on grisly murders and salacious stories of suicide, rape, abuse. Some tabloids are even built on them.
Which brings me to my second reason.
I am positively stunned that in 1934, there was an amateur videographer on the scene of the crime, zooming in on the result of the chaos of the moment—the car with the bullet holes, the body of a woman bent over in death. Was this the very first paparazzo?
I’d assumed the culture we lived in now was to blame for the glorification of violence. Certainly it has not helped any, but now I’m not so sure that the onslaught of technology and instant availability of media is fully to blame. Obviously, even 75 years ago, this fascination with the darker side of life existed. People wanted to see with their very eyes—violence. Death. Destruction.
So this curiosity—is it cultural? Or simply human nature?
Jennicki