"Arthur Penn, the stage, television and motion picture director whose revolutionary treatment of sex and violence in the 1967 film “Bonnie and Clyde” transformed the American film industry, died Tuesday night at his home in Manhattan, the day after he turned 88" — Dave Kehr, New York TimesI suppose "revolutionary" and "transformed" are nice things to put in an obituary, but how exactly? It isn't just wariness of the cult of Bonnie and Clyde that prompts this thought, although it is one of those films whose reputation has always seemed to me a tad out-sized. I'm sure at the time, the violence rocked 'em back in their seats but anyone coming to the film straight from it's reputation as a classic jaw-dropper — those berets! All that agonised rolling around in slo mo at the end! — are bound to some disappointment. I was, anyway. The Wild Bunch is a different matter: Peckinpah is a master framer and cutter. His bloodbaths are ecstatically rendered. The set-ups in Bonnie and Clyde seem awfully stolid and four-square by comparison. The thing I liked the most about it are the periods of downtime between the heists: the bored listlessness to the scenes with Michael J Pollard and Gene Hackman, in which the possibility of violence buzzes around like a fly. You could even argue that it was this downtime — the non-violence — that was the more "revolutionary" and "transformative".