-
Outlaws, According to the Movies
- University of Iowa Press
- Chapter
- Additional Information
They drive into a north synonymous with the way out, as in the Unabomber, draft dodgers, oblivious forest conversing with wind it doesn’t understand. Orchestral surges with an inclination to swerve close to the cliff, drawing them over the next ridge. One imagines floating down the river, face up. The other repeats a phrase from the radio, Stacks of unidentified . . . lumber, boxes? Not bodies. Streams of light, they would escape the river. Being what they are, fleshly versions of stars, they follow its winding like a fact they cannot get straight. * Old Testament rain: exaggerated sloppiness. The rain means circumstances beyond our control. The rain means they really want to kiss. On the third day they continue in amber light, yoked to the road. Hours lost in the telling. Kingfisher footage. Hovering over the fact of them, the Bonnie and Clyde of them. An air of machine guns and prohibition whiskey about them, they could be: Rebels of Lost Causes. Freedom Fighters after the Fact. outlaws, according to the movies [ 51 ] * Kingfisher footage with voice-over: The problem with the bodies is that they are keys to how history will be told. Do they see themselves in this river? Its sure career through incorruptible mountains? River of boys drowning in a one-time showing someone somewhere views every day, the long, brown chests running into sand. River of mosquitoes patrolling the nationalized air, mosquitoes finding the ear behind all that hair: unacknowledged state insects of their minds. The radio’s river of reportage and a song of private resistance, something about a car, a stranger, river they’re just beginning to enter. [ 52 ] ...