Prior to the New Wave, there were no sensitive men in films. Flawed, yes. But soft? Never. Male protagonists were reserved or cynical, perhaps hardened by a tough life, like Casablanca‘s Rick. Emotions were never worn on the sleeve. To show happiness, audiences would be lucky to get a sly smile, like Sunset Boulevard‘s Joe. To show sadness…well, sadness never really was shown, except in when it was expressed through anger. Charles Kane wasn’t sad when Susan left him in Citizen Kane. He was angry, destroying things left and right. Boys didn’t cry before the 60’s in American cinema.
It’s strange to think that in the New Wave, a film about gangster life is one of the trendsetters that break this mold. Bonnie and Clyde (1967) plays with conventional gender roles in film while doubly handling the challenge any period piece brings: conforming to the gender stereotypes of the time. Bonnie is shown to have agency, often telling her fellow gang members what to do, even Clyde, her lover and the (supposed) leader of the Barrow Gang. She is no sweet angel, pure of heart, nor is she simply an object a character must acquire to further his own development. Bonnie is a character. And Clyde…well, the revolutionary thing is he has…feelings. That is, feelings outside of mild happiness and destructive anger.
Despite having lived a life of crime, Clyde is not as much hardened by his career as he is vulnerable. He’s insecure, feeling he has to constantly prove himself. The obvious example is his failure to please Bonnie in bed, something which most definitely affects his confidence. Even near the end, when they have their last tryst, Clyde feels the need to ask Bonnie if he was good, as if asking for her approval. Then, there are other instances when Clyde feels the need to assert his authority, like when he robs a failed bank and brings the teller to the car to explain to Bonnie that the bank has no money in order to save Clyde the embarrassment of leaving empty-handed. Just before this robbery, he spent a solid minute in the car, seemingly getting over his nerves. Another instance is when the Texas ranger spits in Bonnie’s face, causing Clyde to angrily lash out on him. This isn’t a controlled anger nor is it destructive. Clyde sloppily pushes the ranger around, shouting, his voice cracking. He’s a mess while trying to defend “his woman’s honor” when really he’s trying to impress her.
The key difference from previous male leads, though, is Clyde’s tears. When Bonnie tries to run away, desperate to see her mother, Clyde catches her. He cries, holding her close, genuinely scared her might lose her. After C.W reads the story of Clyde’s brother Buck’s death in the paper, Clyde angrily slaps the paper down, tears in his eyes. Clyde has fears and anxieties. He’s not just a fortress of solitude whose layers must be peeled away to truly understand what makes him tick. Clyde is emotional, vulnerable and therefore human.
There are other examples in the film. Gene Hackman’s Buck is uneducated hick who is, in contemporary terms, “whipped” by his wife. Gene Wilder humorously plays my favorite character Eugene, a timid wimp who can barely bark, not even mention bite. C.W is shown at several moments in the film to be crying, just being a kid after all. The antagonists are the traditionally toxic masculine characters. C.W’s father Malcolm tries to beat sense into his kid while the Texas ranger looks as if he’s walked off the set of Gunsmoke looking for outlaws to kill. Looking at the film’s male cast, it is easy to see how the convention of masculinity is turned on its head in the film.
Bonnie and Clyde is not an artificial movie. While it is filmed on location rather than a back lot or sound stage, the same claim can be made toward its characters, who feel like real people. The women aren’t flawless angels and the men aren’t brooding rationalists. Everyone’s weaknesses are on full display, making the film’s conflict more real to the audience. Toxic masculinity is massacred in the same way Bonnie and Clyde are at the movie’s climax. Dead. Gone. Eliminated.
In Bonnie and Clyde, yes. Boys can cry.
The CineMan Twist 