25th Anniversary Five-Part Mini Series Event
When we left our heroines in Pt 1 of our 25th anniversary lookback at Thelma & Louise, they were fleeing the scene of their (first) crime but Louise needed a cup of coffee and to collect herself. Anne Marie & Margaret, our own superheroine duo in Los Angeles were grappling with the surprise killing of a would be rapist. Was it rage and pride that motivated Louise to shoot after she had already saved Thelma? It certainly provoked audiences but was there any other way to play the film's themes?
Louise is trying to plot their next move when we return to them, just before they jump back in their '66 Thunderbird - Editor
Pt 2 by Nick Davis
Now's not the time to panic. If we panic now, we're done for."
24:50 You could say this is the moment where Thelma and Louise shifts from a movie about two women fleeing some problems, at least temporarily, to two women solving a problem, probably permanently. Sure, I'll run to any movie where two women let their hair down, but I will fucking jet-propel myself to any movie where two or more women join forces to think their way out of a fix. Well, not Mad Money. And not The Boss. Okay, there are exceptions. But Thelma & Louise is the glorious rule, and this is where the drama of deduction, cognition, mutual examination, and deep self-reflection really kicks into fifth gear.
I should mention that I saw this film in the theater at 14. Sheltered and naive about sex and violence, I didn't completely understand what rape was--which is to say, I think I learned it here. I had never had a drink, much less been drunk, or even seen a margarita. Ironically, the post-shooting moment when Thelma and Louise start spiraling into unknown territory was when I started to connect with their world and feel common ground with the heroines. I didn't know from waitressing jobs, fishing trips, honky tonks, convertibles, freeways, mesas, relationship troubles, shitty husbands, hitchhikers, horny moods, pistols, or structural misogyny, but I absolutely related to relying on wits to think your way out of a problem, and disclosing aspects of yourself in how you did so, and concealing parts of yourself at the same time.
Look at that handwritten Specials placard on the table: $8.95 for a whole pizza. 1991 was a long time ago.
Girl, please. Those two coffee cups are conspicuously empty. Come on, props department!
Just one more thing about this shot. Okay, two more. One is that, while I totally agree with Margaret and Anne Marie that Ridley Scott's auteurist signature doesn't really govern this movie or its reputation, you couldn't prove, based on this single image, that Thelma and Louise haven't driven right into Blade Runner. Venetian blinds, blue tints, dark palettes, night skies, lens flares... Scott's prints are all over this shot. But I also like that, despite the women's mirrored placement across the table, their minds aren't on the same things or remotely working the same way. Louise is trying to calculate a strategy for their near-future steps. Thelma is stunned and ineffably mired in her feelings about the recent, very wounding past.
25:32 "If you weren't concerned with having so much fun, we wouldn't be here right now!" In abrupt close-up, Louise spits out this line, all but blaming Thelma for their predicament--that is, blaming Thelma for her own sexual assault. This is almost certainly the least pretty moment in their entire friendship. The cut back to Thelma shows she can hardly bear or comprehend this accusation. The shot has a red background, whereas Louise's is all dull blue. The movie keeps cross-cutting, rather than holding the women in the same two-shot. Visually and dramatically, then, these women are in different spaces, and not at all reaching each other. Louise's refusal to clarify--she says nothing for several seconds after Thelma asks, "So this is all my fault, is it?"--is even harder for Thelma than the verbal accusation. That might have been an ill-considered impulse. But why can't Louise bring herself to take it back?
26:28 That Thelma. She can blow off Daryl, leave for a weekend, abandon him with a beer and a TV dinner and a note, but she can't deny herself one whimsical touch: two tiny stuffed koalas, perched atop the Miller cap. Is this "cute" gesture meant to be conciliatory, or to indicate Thelma's child-woman personality, or is it some kind of passive-aggressive kissoff? We can't read the note she's left Daryl, which might have helped us glean her attitude at the moment she left the house.
26:55 Harvey Keitel's Hal interviews the Silver Bullet waitress (Lucinda Jenney) in another smoky, blue-tinted Blade Runner shot. The flashing police lights give the frame the same muted red, white, and blue palette we see in Thelma and Louise's roadside eatery. Yes, I said red, white, and blue. Kind of fun that Lena, the waitress, can't stop hitting on Hal as she gives her testimony. Interesting choice, whether by actress, writer, or director, not to have this character be spooked or shaken by what has transpired, even as Harlan is being zipped in a body bag near her feet. Lot of randy people in this film. Does the waitress just not care what's happened? Does she hate Harlan enough not to take his murder very seriously? Or is she completely used to this kind of incident, and the entrenched sexism and violence that underwrite it?
28:35 Not for the first time in the movie, Louise studies herself meticulously in a bathroom mirror. What is new, as she notices a spot of Harlan's blood on her cheek, is the sight of Louise nearly coming undone. Just as shocking is our glimpse of Thelma as she storms out of the toilet: furious, glowering. One 15-second scene, two completely out-of-character impressions of our protagonists.
Now, it is possible that Thelma is angry because she was just aggressed in that cinderblock bathroom stall by an invisible transgender menace. We never see into this stall, so we can't be sure. Recent news outlets and elected legislators have forced me to ponder this prospect. But I'd ALMOST wager that Callie Khouri's script thinks that chauvinists, cheaters, swindlers, leering truckers, and especially drunk-ass, chronically aggressive, diversely violent cis-het rapists are the real threats to women's safety and well-being. It's just a guess!
29:21 "Sixty-one dollars...shit. Forty-one dollars." Khouri and Scott are smart to keep giving their protagonists comic beats to play, even as their circumstances are cratering. Also, though Thelma and Louise are back in their car, these gals aren't being framed together yet. The wall between them remains palpable.
29:35 Pausing in a motel to devise a plan, Louise has already showered and wrapped herself in a towel. She is hastily, maybe too hastily, trying to wash off what's happened and think ahead. Thelma is still stuck in the clothes she was wearing when she was attacked. They're in a two-shot now, but these women are still in different headspaces, different states of dress, almost in different time coordinates.
30:28 Louise is both a friend and a babying mother: patting a weeping Thelma on the hip, caressing, apologizing, consoling, suggesting a midday swim. It's all a bit condescending, even if it reveals a longstanding character dynamic between these gals. (Earlier, in the car, Louise referred to how Thelma behaves "every time we get in trouble." How often has this happened? And over what?)
31:36 I love the unexpected long shot on Thelma as she collapses into a courtyard pool chair, while we hear Louise's conversation with Jimmy and the frequent sonic motif of loud tractor-trailer engines. Bravo to Scott for not barreling in for an intrusive close-up on Thelma's distress...
33:00 ...though he's not above a somewhat exploitative tight shot on Geena Davis in a bikini, just a few minutes later. Would Thelma really strip down in the plastic recliner at this anxious juncture, just hours after an attempted rape? And were ruffled bikinis really a thing? Curious how Thelma's outfit is at least as sexy as the one she changed out of (and where did that gypsy blouse and ankle-length skirt disappear to, anyway?), whereas Louise is conspicuously dowding herself down in a loose green sweatshirt and jeans.
I skipped all the stuff with Louise's phone call to Jimmy, because this was never my favorite subplot in the film.
33:30: As Thelma and Louise pull away, a pop-rock song on the soundtrack blares, "You and I are standing at the crossroads..." As a nation, a world even, we nod in agreement: "We get it, Ridley: crossroads!" More subtly, though: is this the second "crime" they commit: not paying their motel bill? Interesting that the movie doesn't flag this all that strongly, as it will when Thelma robs her first convenience store for cash, which feels like the beginning of their new life as outlaws.
33:39: Serious Venetian Blind Action back at police headquarters. Hey, Ridley. Hey!
34:43: Scott is still not allowing any two-shots as Louise unspools her plan to Thelma, even after they have reunited in the convertible.
35:29: I think it's bold of Oscar-nominated Thom Noble to cut to Thelma, not hold on Louise, as the latter makes her famous and pivotal declaration that "Everything's changed." It's bold, too, of Noble to use a shot of Davis where her face barely registers a clear emotion. Whether by the actress's design or the editor's choice, we don't really know if Thelma already foresees what Louise does, and if so, how she feels about it. I like these mysterious moments in Davis's performance, when we cannot quite know what Thelma is thinking, or how savvy she really is, or how much Louise is over- or under-estimating her friend.
36:30: The 367th scene of phone conversation. Scott, Noble, and d.p. Adrian Biddle somehow prevent this pattern from feeling boring or repetitive. The 528th, 529th, and 530th trucks in the film drive past on the highway in the background of the shot while Louise gets the deets on a Western Union money transfer from Jimmy.
37:20: How is Thelma paying for all these tiny liquor bottles? I thought she only had $41? (Fun fact: these single-serving liquor bottles remain illegal to buy or sell in Illinois.)
37:50: Phone conversation #368, as Thelma calls home to Daryl, who is gobbling pizza and watching football, all but unconcerned about his vanished wife. I've always felt that Ridley Scott and Christopher McDonald could have pulled this performance in a bit. Then again, there's something fun about a man, for once, being forced to overplay vapidity, misplaced priorities, and a flagrant disregard for a spouse's interests.
39:30: Brad Pitt arrives into the movie symbolically ejaculating from some kind of water hose he's holding near his crotch. Again, you could bemoan the lack of subtlety, or you could get off on the movie's willingness to have fun with complex female leads and blatantly stereotyped male satellites. That said, Pitt is served much better by this script than the female floozy as sexy-comic distraction tends to be in a zillion other screenplays.
40:14: Fourteen years before Jack Twist ogled Ennis del Mar through a rearview mirror while "shaving," Thelma eye-fucked J.D. through a rearview while she touched up her mascara. I swear, men everywhere steal all their best moves from women! There's even a lone acoustic guitar playing on the soundtrack, though it suggests a gathering erotic spark under a summer sun, not Brokeback's lonesome eulogies.
40:33: J.D.'s even wearing Jack Twist's outfit! What is going on??
40:42: Did you want me to stop talking about young Brad Pitt?
Oh, you didn't? It's funny in this shot how the rhetoric of the framing suggests a crass objectification of J.D.'s body, but Scott and Biddle can't quite bring themselves to home in on that much-discussed derriere, which is both the focal point of the image and mostly out of frame. We all know there's a certain kind of straight man who explodes and collapses into a pile of Big League Chew if he so much as glances at a hot buddy's bod. To their credit, Scott and Biddle will soon have a lot more fun with what Pitt's packing. For now, though, the studs on J.D.'s belt are more clearly framed by the camera than the tight butt that excites Thelma so much.
41:36: Huh. I wouldn't have figured Louise for a Twizzler enthusiast.
41:38: I like that Brad grew out that wispy, slightly seedy 'stache, so faint that the camera doesn't pick it up in every shot. J.D. could have been styled as a young Adonis, pure and simple, but there's something disreputable and vaguely pitiable and very, very young about him. This makes him more comic and more realistic than he would be as a flawless paragon.
42:00: Louise speeds furiously backward from the convenience store to the gas station, captured in a high-velocity camera movement. This is the kind of funny, character-revealing beat that's more complicated and expensive to shoot than a simple cut to a different location would have been. It is thus another sign of the care and fun that Scott took in this whole production.
42:15: Love the random bodybuilder lifting hand weights in the gas station parking lot. Does he have a tip jar?
42:51: Venetian blinds, an oscillating fan, reflecting glass in framed photos, a blinking computer screen: clearly a Ridley Scott shot, right? (Yes, children: every computer used to have green text on a black screen. And even after they didn't, they still had 'em in movies.)
43:38: Well, Thelma and Louise are finally back in two-shot! A victory, right? But not so fast. No sooner are they functioning again as an onscreen unit than another wedge appears between them: Louise wants to drive from Oklahoma to Mexico without passing through Texas, and she won't tell Thelma why, and she's never told Thelma why, whenever this subject has (clearly) come up before. Thelma presses the point, but to no avail, and she lets it go more easily than Louise would have. For all that Thelma sometimes seems like the daffier half of this pair, she seems to have at least as strong a read on Louise as vice versa. She just doesn't push every encounter or conversation to its extreme, the way Louise more often does. Maybe she doesn't want it confirmed what pretty obviously happened to Louise in Texas--just as she might not want to hear in literal terms what Louise actually feels for her? (Anne Marie and Margaret and I are reading Louise's conduct in the bar the same way; in fact, there's a fair bit of seductive energy wafting off her toward Thelma at many points.) Whatever the case may be, it's counter-intuitive and interesting that Thelma and Louise finally uses framing to re-bond its protagonists, only to suggest that some silences and impediments in their friendship have persisted for a long, long time.
44:45: When Detective Hal shows up to Louise's house looking for her, he's struck by--as Anne Marie also noted--that incredibly fastidious way she washed and dried her tiny handful of dishes and left almost nothing out on her counters. This all reads to him, though, like preparation for a flight. Similarly, Thelma's early decision to pack waaaay too much for a trip gets misread as a sign that she was consciously embarking on a long journey of no return. Fascinating, upsetting, and deeply plausible how basic, innocuous signs of two women's personalities get read by a man, even a well-meaning man, as telltale signs of their guilt.
46:10: It's not my fault that I got all these Brad Pitt shots! And, if we're being honest, I've always kind of wondered about this thread of the script. J.D.'s arrival makes for a creative plot twist, and a meaningful signal that men take advantage of women in a wide range of styles and stratagems. It's also a platform for a deliciously fun performance by Pitt and enables a delightful rush of palpable pleasure from Davis, the actress, and from Thelma, the character. But is it weird that Thelma is so thirsty for a young, unknown himbo with law-breaking inclinations, so shortly after a nightmarish experience of sexual violence?
In any event, J.D.'s second appearance in right-profile long shot on the side of the road is so ostentatious and picturesque that it feels like a character introduction. I wonder if the filmmakers were so delighted by what they'd found in Pitt, and in his chemistry with Davis, that they retroactively ginned up the earlier scene by the phone booth just to get more J.D. into the movie. I bet I could look this up, but I'd rather wonder.
46:50: I love how the movie stays in long shot but executes that fast, sudden tracking shot as J.D. hops into the T-bird's back seat and the trio sets out for the highway. You get that "rush" of the women's excitement not from unnecessary dialogue or from obvious close-ups but from the feel and rhythm of the camera and the cutting. The sign of a real filmmaker, letting cinematic grammar and devices tell parts of the story themselves.
47:40: Hal interviews Daryl. I don't totally care.
It's okay. He is an asshole. Most of the time I just let it slide."
48:34: Another fabulous line reading from Davis: Thelma knows she's being funny, but she's also earnestly trying to impress J.D.: paradoxically seeking one man's affections by insisting she doesn't care what a second man thinks or does. The audience probably laughs at the line even more than Thelma intends, because Davis is confident enough to invite our chuckling at and with her character. Meanwhile, note that Louise gets her own close-ups in this short, vibrant dialogue scene, as does J.D. Only Thelma is never framed by herself: she's starting to come into her own by this point in the movie, but she still mostly lives through other people.
49:12: I mean, I guess you can take a sudden, abrupt, high-speed, off-road detour through the oil derricks right when two police cars are flashing their lights and cruising toward you, and they won't notice. Life's weird, you know? What's interesting about this roadside facility is that it generates not one but four products--raw petroleum, dust clouds, plumes of steam, and abundant lens flares--in almost equal proportion.
49:44: And here, at last, is Stephen Tobolowsky! Aka Sammy Jankis! Or, as I thought of him at the time, the jeweler who totally isn't ready for Annette Bening's jelly at the beginning of The Grifters.
50:27: Back in 1991, when there were no cellphones or selfie-sticks and the Earth was still cooling, we commemorated ephemeral moments with blazing-hot strangers by taking Polaroids of each other. Yes, Polaroids. We kept these devices in handmade leather pouches, with our sundials and medicinal poultices. Thank goodness Thelma over-packed and brought that thing along!
50:40: Two deep-space gags in one short scene! First, notice that as soon as Louise has left the car, Thelma is jumping in the back of the convertible with J.D. You can spot them through--you guessed it--the Venetian blinds of the Western Union. And...
50:48: Second gag: that man holding up a newspaper in the background of the shot as Louise asks for her money isn't just any man, it's her fickle but devoted, soulfully squinty boyfriend Jimmy, who's traveled many, many miles to intercept her.
To recap, then, the first phase of Thelma & Louise, as determined by this Film Experience feature, ended with a man being even more more callous and carnivorous toward women than Thelma or Louise saw coming. This second phase ends with a man taking much more loving interest in Louise than she had predicted. Both of these surprises throw her for a loop--the second, arguably, as much as the first.
And if you think that's a surprise, wait and see what Thelma's got coming to her in part 3 as Daniel takes the keys...