The California Kid (1974)

This is a made-for-TV movie, and it shows, especially in the production values and the music (more about the latter in a minute). I certainly wouldn't have watched it if it hadn't been freely available on YouTube. That said, it was a lot of fun, and the characters were surprisingly interesting (relative to other TV movies, of course).

The biggest draw, apart from the free-ness, is the star. Martin Sheen is the eponymous lead, and brings a boatload of charisma to a character who offers (and needs) nothing else. Nick Nolte shows up in a small but significant part, and hits the pitch perfectly. TV-movie star Vic Morrow could probably have done a bit more with the troubled, possibly-evil antagonist, but that is certainly asking too much from a made-for-TV flick. It would have been pretty disturbing if he'd gone any further with it, honestly.

It's a terse, tautly drawn drama, and if it doesn't do a lot to pull you in, it also doesn't give you much time for distraction. The action runs along fairly quickly, toward a pretty predictable end, but with a few interesting moments along the way.

And now a note about the music. The film is supposed to take place in the late 50s, but the music is pure 70s. And it's one of the best things about this film. It's so out of place that it pretty much takes over, and sets the entire mood. If you're not carried away by the wikkity-wah-wah of the opening credits, don't bother watching any further. Music is the raft that will carry you down this river, and if you can stay on board, it's a fun ride.

Badlands (1973)

If nothing else, Terrence Malick is a patient filmmaker. He is content to simply spend time with his characters, letting them develop organically rather than putting them through a series of dramatic plot points which can define them clearly. This film develops at its own pace. We watch as Kit spends the morning dumping trash for the city, noticing little details about the people and places along his route and joking around with his co-worker. There's a bit more drama in Holly's narration, but it's muted simply by virtue of being narration, and of course through Spacek's deadpan intonation of it. Though there are moments of foreboding and drama, just as often there are significant moments which pass by almost undetected. The first time we see Kit's gun, for example, it's just there in his pocket as he's moving around Holly's room. This patient, hyper-realist style is an interesting choice, and it has the effect of bringing down to ground level what would otherwise be a larger-than-life story.

The ancillary effect of the style is that it lays the burden of the story directly onto those in front of the camera. It's a great choice, though—if Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek can't carry your film, it can't be carried. They each fill out their characters wonderfully. Sheen is a charismatic presence immediately. On the page, his character is not so much quirky as deranged, but Sheen manages to lend an air of intrigue to Kit, and to weave his meandering thoughts into a mostly fluid line. For her part, Spacek develops an admittedly personality-free girl into a willful, moral presence.

I had expected this to be a much more somber film, but Malick is playful—most obviously with the music, but also with the irony in Holly's telling of the story, and with the interactions between this pair and the strangers they meet. It's an offbeat film, and an infectious one.