Natural Born Killers (Woody Harrelson, Juliette Lewis)
When Oliver Stone made the über-controversial Natural Born Killers in 1995, he'd shot several scenes that would eventually be removed of his own free will, because he felt they didn't really fit with the narrative. Other scenes, ones that were deemed too violent by the MPAA, were removed against the director's wishes. It's an irksome tendency that continues today. With the advent of DVD, it is obvious that directors will sooner or later be permitted to release their original cut anyway. Why then, are their works censured between the time they are filmed and the time they end up on video? Doesn't that defeat the whole point of releasing it in the first place? Books are not written so that a few chapters can be left out. Musicians don't perform songs at their concerts with portions taken out, leaving blank silence in their stead. A better ratings system needs to be implemented, something that will, at the very least, offer moviegoers the choice to see a movie as it was intended to be seen, and not an expegated version. The only scenes that should be cut are the ones the director chooses to cut.
On to the movie. Mickey and Mallory Knox (Woody Harrelson and Juliette Lewis) are modern day Bonnie and Clyde's. They rampage the USA by robbing diners, swooping down on pharmacies, and killing any bystander that gets in their way. As they continue to add to their tally of no less than fifty-two people, the police begin to close in on them (Tom Sizemore as Jack Scagnetti, essentially another kind of "Bad Lieutenant"). They are eventually captured and sent to prison under the watchful eye of Warden McClusky (Tommy Lee Jones), but not before an entire nation is swept away by their plights by their abundant media exposure (Robert Downey Jr. is Wayne Gale, the Geraldo-esque reporter who is granted an exclusive interview with Mickey).
Everything about Natural Born Killers is over the top. The performances vary from frenzied to disturbing (in a unique flashback, Rodney Dangerfield appears as Mallory's incestuously violent father; it is set against a sitcom laughtrack). The Knox journey is presented in an array of visual techniques, from black and white and 8 mm, to coloured filters, screen projections, blue screens, and even animation. The songs in the background range from the Shangri-las and the Cowboy Junkies to tomandandy, Patti Smith, Carmina Burana, Nine Inch Nails, Leonard Cohen, Dr. Dre, Madame Butterfly, and Rage Against the Machine. This eruption of styles is Oliver Stone's canvas for illustrating how obsessed society has become with scandal and murder. You can't make a satire about the infatuation with violence and not show its ugly extremities.
Some have labelled Natural Born Killers as a self-indulgent project that fails in what it's trying to do. But even after all the between-the-lines statements have been examined and its dozens of possible interpretations have been squeezed dry, it still has moments of dark humour and gasp-inducing lapses into entertainment. I don't necessarily see that as a failure. Somehow I think that Stone was hoping for that, too.
