Badlands (1973)

In love with Terrence Malick’s “Days of Heaven” on my first viewing years back, I sought out his earlier effort, “Badlands.” Its brilliance knocked me off guard. Fictionalizing a true killing spree, “Badlands” has Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek as lovers on the run in 1950s Midwest America, he a smooth, detached murderer, and she a teen who is more shockingly indifferent than innocent. Kit (Sheen) is late 20s and collects trash for a job until he no longer wants to, and he falls for high school teen Holly (Spacek). Her father objects and coldly kills the family pet as punishment, and that prompts Kit to kill him. Many more bodies pile up as the duo head from South Dakota to Montana, back roads and dirt. The killing of the dog hit hard this time: Holly has no reaction, and as Kit murders, she barely lodges a gasp, talking up pet birds with a gut-shot man who is bleeding out. Beyond all the romance, music and desert beauty on display, Malick has made a genius film about an America that stares unblinking and not a little amused at death. Forty years on, we’ve reached this stark reality every single day. A+