Another Look - Thelma & Louise

When it opened in May of 1991, Thelma & Louise became a media sensation. Much of it had to do with the picture's genre-bending innovation of having two women leads starring in a road movie. Some decried what they believed was violent vengeance against men, though only one man died in the film.

I'd seen Thelma & Louise several times over the years, but re-watched it for the first time in several years a couple of weekends ago. And while I'd always liked the film, this viewing provoked a very different reaction. I haven't been able to get it out of my head since.

Author's Note: I'm a male writing about how male privilege afflicts women within the context of this film. Take my opinion for whatever you think it's worth. 

SPOILER WARNINGS are in effect from here on.

The film tells the story of two lower-middle class women who head out for a weekend camping trip. Thelma is a housewife, married to a loutish husband, while Louise is a waitress. On their way to the cabin, they stop at a honkytonk for dancing and drinks. What they get is Thelma assaulted and nearly raped in the parking lot, and Louise killing the assailant in self-defense. Instead of going to the police, the women flee west on the back-roads of the American Southwest.

Thelma & Louise started out as an original screenplay by Callie Khouri. A former music video producer, Khouri channeled her anger and frustration into a story which drew raves from agents and studios around Hollywood. Of course, virtually none of them had the courage to translate the script into a feature film.

Eventually, Ridley Scott came aboard as a producer, and later decided to direct when he couldn't find a director who saw the story the way he did. Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis signed on as Louise and Thelma, respectively. The terrific supporting cast included Harvey Keitel, Christopher McDonald, Michael Madsen, and a then-unknown Brad Pitt.

Now that the boilerplate is out of the way... Thelma & Louise is a deadly serious, even fatalistic story about the damage white male privilege does to women, particularly poor and lower-middle class women. Cleverly, it's cloaked in the guise of a buddy action-comedy and road movie, which both allows the audience to enjoy the ride and allows the filmmakers to explore the themes in symbolic and visual terms.

What Men Have Done To These Women.

Thelma - a mess of a housewife in a mess of a marriage

Let's start with Thelma. As portrayed by Davis, Thelma is a mess of a housewife. When the film opens, we see the house she shares with her husband Darryl is messy. Further, Darryl - as played by McDonald - is openly an asshole toward his wife. He berates her for yelling - she's concerned he'll be late for work, ignores her attempts to give him coffee and ask his permission to go with Louise on the trip, dismisses her concerns when she asks what to fix for dinner, and then puts her down when she subtly questions why he's busy selling carpets on a Friday night out.

She starts packing for her weekend camping trip with Louise, and having never packed for her own trip, essentially throws everything she owns into her suitcase. She packs a gun in her purse, never having handled it before. Most crucially - as she admits to Louise - her husband isn't letting her go on this trip. Not merely does he not know, but "she didn't ask him." Essentially, Thelma has become defined by her husband and his expected behavior, and has never developed fully as an adult or person in her own right - not least because (as she says later in the film) she married young. And what she sees in Louise is something to emulate, an adult woman firmly in control of her life (a mistaken assumption, as we'll expand on this shortly).

Further, as she begins to redefine herself outside of her husband's influence, she comes across like a teenager. Her decisions are those that a teenage girl might make - the pursuit of immediate gratification without regard to long-term consequences. First, we see she can't handle her liquor or Harlan's advances at the honkytonk until it's way too late. Second, she begs Louise to allow J.D. to catch a ride, against Louise's better instincts, which eventually leads to her getting the fantastic wild sex she's always wanted and never had with her husband - and J.D. stealing their money. Third, in response to J.D.'s theft, she robs a local market.

What's really interesting is her growth between that 3rd decision and her 4th decision - pulling a gun and getting Louise out of the custody of a New Mexico Highway Patrolman. She handles the situation with grace and class, is unfailingly polite yet supremely practical - she apologizes to the officer, but still tells Louise to shoot the police scanner before shooting holes in the trunk so the cop can breathe while he's locked in. Finally, she is sympathetic to the officer (who in tears claims he's married with children), and yet firm in her directions for him to get in the trunk.

Thelma starts the movie as an arrested development teenager, whose self-esteem is constantly beaten down by her jerk of a husband, and who desperately wants Louise's approval. Over the course of the film, we get to see her grow into the woman she was always meant to be.

Louise - everything must be in place.

Now to Louise. When we first see Louise, she is rushing to get home from her waitressing job at a diner / family style restaurant. Once home, she begins packing her suitcase for the weekend. In Sarandon's portrayal, she couldn't be more different from Thelma. All her clothes are neatly folded and placed in the suitcase. Her shoes are packed in plastic bags. We also see that Louise has very little patience for the man in her life - her boyfriend Jimmy. She tries calling him, and when he doesn't answer, she turns a portrait of his face down.

Also, in an important contrast to Thelma, Louise's apartment is immaculate and spare, as though she's not accustomed to staying in one place for too often. In these early scenes, it's readily apparent that Louise's conception of life is to always be in complete control of herself and her surroundings, and be ready to make a decision and move on at a moment's notice. Therefore, it's not a surprise later in the movie when it becomes evident Louise was a victim (most likely of rape) as a teenager, and the crime went unpunished - it has lead her to dominate all elements of her life, while simultaneously be in a position to move on the moment something becomes uncomfortable or unnecessary.

It's telling that between the two main characters, the two biggest mistakes in the film are Louise's mistakes, and both are losses of control prompted by men acting in their own self-interest.

In the first case, it's Harlan (Thelma's rapist) telling an armed Louise "I said suck my cock!" In response, Louise shoots him dead in the honkytonk parking lot, and whispers "You watch your mouth, buddy!" You can feel the rage which has been simmering under the surface of Louise for decades erupting like a volcano.

In the second case, it's Detective Slocumb playing on Louise's desperate need to trust and be heard and felt, keeping her on the phone long enough to allow the police to complete a phone trace. On more than one occasion, Thelma manages to incidentally reference the traumatic incident in Louise's past, only to be shot down immediately or have the conversation changed. And the one time Thelma asks her directly, Louise stops the car and explicitly tells Thelma that she's not going to talk about it, and to drop it. Yet, Louise desperately wants that conversation with Slocumb - someone with power who can affect change. It's an appeal to the patriarchy.

So, we have clear expressions of how these women are valued, and what it has done to them. One was abused and discarded by the male dominated system, and adapted by refusing to trust anyone. The other did what was expected of her by the male dominated system - married her high-school sweetheart and became a housewife - and is trapped as an accessory for her husband when he deems her necessary.

The Men: Stereotypes With a Purpose.

Ridley Scott is a well-regarded director of actors, able to get subtle performances in some cases, and over-the-top in other cases. In this particular case, Scott allows his actresses to remain relatively subtle and naturalistic. On the other hand, his major male characters are allowed (or directed) to be much more flamboyant, violent, charismatic, or sympathetic as the character calls for. Let's take a look at 5 of these men in particular, and how their portrayal colors the film.


Harlan - The Creep.

Harlan emerges from shadows.

Harlan is played by Timothy Carhart. In his brief stint as Harlan, Carhart exudes souless charisma. It's not 30 seconds after Harlan spots the ladies sitting down at their table before he's already at the table flirting. Harlan also demonstrates a hustler's knack for identifying the mark - a simple smile and some kindness is all it takes for him to disarm Thelma, while (tellingly) Louise has him figured out within seconds.

What we see over the next several minutes at the honkytonk are a date rapist's best tricks deployed with ruthless expertise. He devotes all of his attention to Thelma because he realizes she's craving it, and he dismisses Louise because he knows she's not interested in him at all (and maybe even realizes the danger he presents). He gets Thelma drunk, takes her dancing (and separates her from Louise), then as Thelma starts feeling ill, hustles her out to the parking lot for some "fresh air."

The scene where Harlan rapes Thelma is shocking because the audience has (with Thelma) fallen into the trap. Every escalation has gone unnoticed - a credit to Carhart's charismatic performance. Once Thelma attempts to assert control over her own body, Harlan becomes horrendously violent. What's astonishing (and terrifying) in Carhart's performance is Harlan's utter conviction that Thelma is his to do with as he pleases, and not even an armed Louise is able to get him to back off for a second longer than he thinks he has to.


J.D. - The Con Artist.

J.D. pretends to be nice and sympathetic.

For those who remember when Brad Pitt wasn't a sex symbol or an accomplished actor, this was his "a star is born" performance. Playing a drifter named J.D., Pitt's first appearance sees him turn on the charm on immediately, and given that it immediately follows Thelma's phone argument with Darryl, she's both vulnerable and attracted to J.D. who flaunts his charm and laces it with good manners.

In a way, J.D. is just another sociopath, a less violent version of Harlan. As portrayed by Pitt, his charm is more indirect - he takes the time to ask Thelma about why she doesn't have kids, and about her marriage with Darryl. He's able to figure out Thelma just as easily as Harlan did, but expresses more concern (whether he's sincere or not is another matter) about Thelma personally. In the meantime, he lets his incredible good looks carry the hard work of overcoming Thelma's inhibitions and even (to an extent) Louise's suspicions.

Where everyone gets J.D. wrong is with his boyish good looks and his fun, boyish demeanor. When he tells Thelma he's a bank robber, not only does she not kick him out of her hotel room immediately, but she allows him to literally charm her pants off. As a result, the moment she's not paying attention, he steals Louise's life savings and condemns them to a life on the run. And of course, when confronted by Slocumb, J.D. tries to beat the cops with boyish insouciance - and clearly feels no remorse for his actions. If Harlan treated Thelma like she was his to treat as he desired, J.D. is (at best) cavalier about using Thelma until he doesn't need her anymore.


Darryl - The Bully.

Darryl - Football matters more than my distressed wife.

Of all the male roles in the film, Christopher McDonald's Darryl is easily the most over the top and entertaining performance. Darryl is a classic bully and man-child (it's telling he has a pinball machine in his den), the guy who doesn't hesitate to wield his power and influence every chance he gets, and doesn't consider consequences in any serious way. Consider the way he twirls his keys while putting Thelma down in the kitchen, before getting out to his sports car (he's a carpet salesman) and cursing out the construction workers outside his garage. McDonald's Darryl thinks he's hot shit.

Darryl's so full of himself and his power that when Thelma calls him from the road in clear distress, he is by turns dismissive (he's watching a football game), belittling ("That Louise is nothing but a bad influence!"), bullying ("You get your butt back here Thelma, now!"), and finally threatening ("If you're not back here by tonight, Thelma... well, then, I just don't want to say."). Even after Thelma tells him "to go f--k yourself!", he still doesn't take her, her anger, or her situation seriously.

However, when the cops show up to tell him what's happened, he demonstrates his shock (WHAT?!"), before turning into a sloppy puppy at their feet - a reflection of what happens when bullies come up against true alpha males. Any attempt to reassert his dominance - he's unable even to control the TV with the cops in his house - fails. When he attempts to feign his pleasure at hearing from Thelma again, she hangs up immediately. And when the cops bring J.D. in for questioning, he's angry about being ignored by them at the police station.

The last time we see him, Darryl firmly understands his helplessness - listening to a police scanner knowing his wife his is a fugitive, sleeps with whomever she wants, and (even if she's caught) is never coming back to him. The look on Darryl's face is devastating; he knows he's very much to blame.


Jimmy - The Sweet-Natured Loser.

Jimmy - Afraid of losing.

Jimmy is the first of two male characters played in a more naturalistic manner. When we first hear Jimmy's voice, it's a voice over the answering machine. Louise attempts to call him twice; both times he's not home. However, Jimmy, played by Michael Madsen, finally answers Louise's third call. What's interesting about Jimmy is how quickly he's able to intuit that something is very wrong with Louise, and he gets angry when she won't come clean to him - but he is still willing to help her. Scott films his apartment in a way that shows us everything we need to know about him - a musician who is struggling to make ends meet.

Later, he surprises Louise by meeting the women in Oklahoma City with the money Louise asked for. In their motel room, Jimmy displays the exact reasons why Louise would both love him, and yet be willing to walk away from him so quickly. He responds to a difficult situation with alcohol, and displays a violent angry streak when Louise won't explain what's happening. It's the classic male act of trying to intimidate someone into submission. And yet, he proposes marriage. But it's not just because he loves Louise, but because he's afraid of losing her. Somehow, he expects Louise to be grateful and excited about the proposal

Jimmy clearly loves Louise, and is at least smart enough to know he'll never see her again. Yet, all his experience has taught him that he can keep Louise in his life by simply being the best man he can be in that moment, and not being the best man he can be all the time - when doing so earlier might have prevented this breakup from taking place. Louise is his when he decides it what he wants, but no one else can have her and she's not supposed to want anything or anyone other than him.

I'd like to add Madsen adds these shades beautifully - you can see the broken heart on his shoulder, but there's something dangerous lurking just beneath the surface. The role of Jimmy is right in Madsen's wheelhouse. He excels at playing bruised, emotionally stunted men, and this small part is one of his best.


Hal Slocumb - The White Knight.

Hal Slocumb - Trying to save Louise instead of help Louise.

This character is perhaps the most difficult to pin down as a stereotype, because (as played by Harvey Keitel) Detective Slocumb is clearly the one man in the movie who has actual concern for the welfare of both Thelma and Louise. However, I wonder if Slocumb isn't the most subversive male character in the entire movie. He doesn't want to bring Thelma and Louise to justice, or even bring them justice. He wants to save them, both from injustice and themselves. In this regard, Slocumb is simply another manifestation of the patriarchy the women are fleeing from.

In multiple instances, we see Slocumb's desperation to save the women actually get in the way of his doing the job he's tasked with. When he interviews J.D., his intent is not merely to get information from him, but to avenge any harm to the women upon J.D. His phone conversations with Louise are deeply sympathetic, so much so that he apologizes when he tells her she's being charged with murder. Further, after Louise challenges him regarding whether he actually has anything to offer (prison, returning to a patriarchy which has shit on her and Thelma), he begs her to turn herself in, saying "I'll do anything." He beseeches fellow cop Max (Stephen Tobolowsky) - who happens to be the most honest male character in the film; he just wants to arrest the women before they escape - to let him personally go get the women, fearing for their safety from other cops.

At the end of the film, when the women make their final decision to flee, Slocumb charges after them, in what he has to know is a futile gesture. Thus, chasing them to the edge of the cliff is something of a show for the women (who are actively showing him they don't need or want to be rescued), but also for his fellow cops and men. He's using their inaction to elevate himself in the eyes of women, who of course can't protect or save themselves, and who would then turn to him. He's not a monster, but it's another brand of low male self-esteem by which women become entrapped.

 

Thunderbird... and The Ballad of Lucy Jordan

There are three scenes in the film which make use of Hans Zimmer's "Thunderbird" musical track. They're buttressed in a fourth instance by a montage set to an incredibly expressive song.

These four scenes are the heart of the film, and the purest expression of these women trapped within a patriarchal prison.


Scene 1:



Louise is holding a cigarette which she can't bring herself to finish. She glances to her left and sees... two elderly women, sitting in an enclosed patio, looking back at her through the glass. The women and Louise exchange sad expressions. Louise's response is to try and put on lipstick, which she only partially does before throwing the lipstick away.

Here's the movie laying its themes on the table visually. This is the best Thelma and Louise could hope for if they turn themselves in. The old women are photographed in a way which makes them look imprisoned, or caged. Louise's response is unsurprising in a patriarchal society - she tries to make herself more desirable, before realizing the attempt is useless. She's saved by Thelma robbing the market.


Scene 2: The Ballad of Lucy Jordan




The Ballad of Lucy Jordan plays over a montage of the women driving across the landscape at night. According to Wikipedia, the song started out as a poem by Shel Silverstein, and was later adapted into a song by Marianne Faithfull. Listen to the first part of the song, then read the full lyrics here.

Any questions?


Scene 3:




This is right after Louise has been baited into the too-long phone conversation with Slocumb, where she challenges Slocumb as to whether he really is offering her anything of value. Thelma reminds Louise they're on the run by hanging up the phone. As they walk out of the store towards the car, Thelma senses Louise is vulnerable and essentially asks Louise if she's having second thoughts about continuing to Mexico. When Louise answers, Thelma offers (in a gorgeous close-up) this statement of certainty, and verbally expresses the theme:

Thelma: But uh, I don't know, you know. Something's like crossed over in me, and I can't go back. I mean, I just couldn't live. 

Louise: I know. I know what you mean.

Scene 4:

This is the film's famous ending. I think it's pretty obvious to say that Thelma and Louise decide that driving the Thunderbird off the cliff into certain death is a better option than returning to society. They'll both go to prison for decades. And once they're out (if they get out at all), what's left for them? Two old women (just like the ones Louise saw earlier), used up and imprisoned anyway in a patriarchal society which only values them for their sexuality and willingness to allow men to use it as they see fit... and it's a tool no longer available to them. At least in this choice, they maintain their freedom and control over their lives.

All these men will be left with is a Polaroid selfie of Thelma and Louise, in their last moments before they shook off the chains of patriarchy.

Ridley Scott - The Visualist

Here's some interesting shots from the film which express character and theme visually:

Harlan appears for the first time - symbolically sticking his crotch in the women's face.

Jimmy, low rent musician

Ridley Scott hints at the ending? Louise figuring out what to do, a road in the background and overlooking water.

Our symbolic introduction to J.D. Playing with a squirting hose between his legs

Louise looks into her future... if she turns herself in.

Thelma and Louise in the domain of legend. And the shot is freaking gorgeous.

All that's left for the men to remember, a Polaroid marking their last moment of dominance.

Closing Thoughts

One thing I'd argue that Thelma & Louise has working in its favor, almost a quarter-century later, is relevance. Do we still see any signs of a white male patriarchy continuing to assert its dominance over women, especially poor, minority, or lower-middle class women?

Republican Presidential Candidate Donald Trump's thoughts on abortion.

Hillary Clinton faces sexism.

Equal pay for equal work.

Men denied sex is a legitimate excuse for racist, misogynist texts.

Yeah, I think so.

As has always been true of Ridley Scott's work - Thelma & Louise is just gorgeous. And there's strong character, thematic, and symbolic imagery which supports and enhances the narrative. There's also an enormous case to be made for the strength of Callie Khouri's Oscar winning screenplay - which was translated to the screen with very few changes, as well as tremendous contributions from smart actors like Susan Sarandon, Geena Davis, Harvey Keitel, Michael Madsen, and Christopher McDonald.

If there's one thing in Thelma & Louise which keeps it from joining the top tier of Ridley Scott's work (in my opinion Alien, Blade Runner, and Black Hawk Down), it's the presentation of the male characters. I'm kind of split on whether Scott's direction of these actors goes too far over-the-top. Certainly, more naturalistic performances might have made for a more even-handed film. I'd also argue such an approach would've made the movie excessively dour.

The end result of this series of choices by Scott, excepting Slocumb and Jimmy (to an extent) results in a movie which is not as artistically rigorous as it could be if the performances were more naturalistic, or if the male characters were more nuanced. In exchange, the tone is lighter and the audience is encouraged to sympathize with the female characters. As Scott says of the closing shot, he gets to have his cake and eat it too.

It's the difference between a masterpiece and a slightly flawed, very good, very entertaining, and after twenty-five years, highly relevant film.

Author's Note: I highly recommend the book Off the Cliff by Becky Aikman for anyone wanting a closer look at the journey this film took to completion. It's a good read with lots of anecdotes from the cast and crew, which largely avoids the temptation of Hollywood's tabloid and glitz culture while presenting a good look at how women struggle to gain a foothold in the industry, as well as how films are often defined by the challenges presented and how those challenges (budget, casting, locations, filming, editing, etc.) are handled.