By 1974, the road movie was a popular genre among youth in America. Usually these films starred young people in some act of rebellion against authority while travelling great distances, and played with themes of independence, self-assuredness, and, though often overlooked by audiences of the time, consequence. It’s a type of movie that seemingly began with the counter-culture classic Easy Rider, but its roots can be traced to Bonnie and Clyde in 1967. And it’s that film in particular that seems to have been at the forefront of Steven Spielberg’s mind when he made his debut theatrical picture, The Sugarland Express; a comedy-crime road film about a couple being chased by the police while trying to retrieve their son from foster care. It’s a movie that’s very much of its time but doesn’t quite have the capacity to transgress that time as those other films did.
It is based on a true story though. The names and some of the circumstances were altered for creative licence, but the gist of the incident, which took place in 1969, is true.
Lou Jean Poplin (Goldie Hawn) springs her husband Clovis (William Atherton -yeah, Peck from Ghostbusters) from prison in Texas so they can get their infant son back from a foster family in Sugar Land. To do this, they first hitch aboard an old couples’ car, then later steal a police car, taking its driver, patrolman Maxwell Slide (Michael Sacks), as a captive. As state police closely pursue them, but are unable to act due to the hostage situation, the Poplins gradually draw closer to their destination, amassing public support along the way.
Spielberg doesn’t miss an opportunity to show off with this movie his technical prowess. A sandbox has been opened to him and he has more resources to play with than he had for Duel. As such, there are long takes, some very specifically framed scenes, and editing choices that stick out. There’s a tracking shot for instance that follows a car from a distance before going into the car itself. Another scene introduces the child playing outside in the foreground while the plot is being driven by characters in the background. And the ending where two characters are seen in silhouette reflected by water as the credits roll is clearly trying to be different. This kind of stylizing is common of many a director trying to prove themselves on their first major film, and in and of itself, it’s not bad. Some of the choices are smart, demonstrating a skill at and knowledge of the medium. The cinematography is often really good. But the story’s not told strongly enough to balance it out.
It is an interesting story for sure, in an almost reverse-Raising Arizona way. It’s designed to have the audience immediately on the side of the parents who just want their kid back (a sentiment especially resonant and relatable right now), and the kidnapping of a police officer to facilitate how far they’re able to go is likewise a compelling hook. However, as presented in The Sugarland Express, these things aren’t really investing, because after the abduction of Slide the movie proceeds on cruise control. The police always being right behind them sort of diffuses the tension, especially when Lou Jean needs a bathroom break and they all have to wait. The sense of urgency that fuelled the Poplins since they escaped Clovis’ prison mellows out at these points, the pacing slackens, and Slide’s Stockholm syndrome comes without much development.
Another problem is that the characters, and by extent the tone itself, isn’t written with consistency. Goldie Hawn and William Atherton are fine (it’s refreshing to see Atherton not playing an obnoxious asshole), and it’s a credit to Hawn that she’s willing to share the spotlight despite being the bigger star. The movie gauges a lot of humour out of this incompetent crime couple: their communication with the police and misunderstandings, their clumsiness, and even a few digs at their stereotypical Southern personalities. There are moments though when they appear to be just stereotypes. All this makes it hard to take seriously when in the latter half of the film, Spielberg tries to evoke some drama out of them and their situation. But it doesn’t work. Hawn and Atherton could perhaps make it work if it were them alone, but when the movie is also filled with over-indulgent throngs of obsessive supporters, a running joke about an elderly couple left at the side of the road, and police who are equally incompetent (they crash almost as many cars as the cops in Blues Brothers), you can’t help but feel the film ultimately doesn’t earn the sentimental mugging by Hawn or the dramatic death of Clovis. There’s even a scene that tries to bring sombre contemplation out of a Roadrunner cartoon.
That’s not to say the movie is without heart, and I do think Spielberg cares more about the story and characters than Roger Ebert for example, gave him credit for. The genuine scene between Clovis and Slide near the end of the second act and Lou Jean talking earnestly about being a good mother I think do attest to this. Spielberg has sympathy for these characters and you do relate with them on some level. Perhaps we would more and their growth might seem a little more natural if the movie didn’t split its time between the Poplins and the police. Because the police in this film are quite dull, in spite of some attempts at comedy. Again, they’re really inept and trigger happy, and though veteran Western actor Ben Johnson is decent as the captain leading the pursuit, he’s written so blandly and so incidental to the main focus he could have been played by anyone. The only cop who comes out of this movie well is the one who’s an accessory to the criminals.
However one notable product of this movie is that it was Spielberg’s first collaboration with then rising movie musician John Williams -the beginning of a four decades long partnership. And no surprise, Williams’ score is good. It’s very folksy, calm and charming, drawn no doubt from bluegrass music. Like with many a Spielberg movie to come and as I’ve noted is quite common with his work, Williams’ score elevates The Sugarland Express slightly. It’s also just striking enough that I can see why Spielberg continued to return to Williams during his early career.
The movie was a modest success and did well with a lot of critics. The ever harsh Pauline Kael praised it enormously, saying, “in terms of the pleasure that technical assurance gives an audience, this film is one of the most phenomenal debuts in the history of cinema” and compared Spielberg to Howard Hawks. Overlooking the fact that Duel, which had a theatrical release, was Spielberg’s proper feature debut, I’d have to disagree. It’s certainly made well enough, and okay on its basic narrative, being at its best in the last act, but it’s nothing all that special, and victim to a few of the common oversights for first or second-time filmmakers. With maybe another draft of the screenplay, emphasizing more tonal cohesion and fleshing out the characters, The Sugarland Express could’ve been as great as Kael credited it as (it won’t be surprising to some to learn that conversely, Kael was not a fan of Spielbergs’ later movies of the 80s and 90s). Ultimately, it’s a vaguely interesting, albeit lesser Bonnie and Clyde, and I don’t think it would have had legs much at all if not for Spielberg’s subsequent successes. However it was a necessary stepping stone to elevate Spielberg’s experience and credentials, so that he could finally get off the road …and into the water.
Letterboxd: https://letterboxd.com/jbosch/
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