Crowther, Bosley. "Run, Bonnie and Clyde." The New York Times 03 sep 1967 

Immediately following the release of Bonnie and Clyde on August 4th of 1967, the film began to receive both praise and chastisement from critics. No one was more vehemently against Bonnie and Clyde and all it stood for than Bosley Crowther. Crowther was a film critic for the New York Times from the 1940s until the 1960s, when he reviewed the film in 1967. Critics across the nation were torn by the revolutionary use of violence and glorification of criminality, but Crowther achieved prominence among them as the chief advocate that the film was mere fodder.
Crowther acknowledged the social and political context that the film was meant to play on, but states, “Bonnie and Clyde does not impress me as a contribution to the thinking of our times or as wholesome entertainment”. Crowther’s main complaint seems to be the films departure from historical accuracy. Arthur Penn’s use of Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway to portray the two criminals transforms them from ugly, murderous scoundrels into beautiful, exciting heroes, which upsets Crowther. “The performance that Beatty gives of a light-hearted, show offish fellow with a talent for stealing cars and holding up banks at gunpoint is mannered playacting of a hick that bears no more resemblance to Barrow than it does to Jesse James”. Crowther believes that by straying from historical accuracy, Penn is “cheating” and “spitting noise and sparks without much truth”.
Crowther admits the technical and cinematic success of the film, but fails to see its social or artistic importance. This review, and the following writings and statements of Crowther came to headline the critics that disliked the 1967 classic. While many other critics agreed with Crowther in the recent months following the film’s release, opinions started to change, and the film slowly climbed down from the fence and settled on the positive side as a masterpiece and social icon. Crowther’s contemporary, Richard Schickel of Time magazine agreed with Crowther at first, but eventually reversed his opinion and admitted that the film was both important and brilliant. Crowther, however, never came around to agreeing with the film and was subsequently fired from The New York Times because of the public criticism he faced because of his criticism of the film.

Farber, Stephen, and Estelle Changas. "The Graduate." Film Quarterly 21 (1968): 37-41. JSTOR. UPenn, Philadelphia. 8 Apr. 2008. Keyword: charles webb graduate.

     In this film review of The Graduate, Farber and Changas offer criticism that I have never seen before. Not only do they offer different opinions of the film and its characters, but they also misinterpret symbols. This makes the review interesting to read but not very helpful to someone who hasn't seen the movie. The authors note that after 1960s counterculture films with "teenyboppers and acid heads, The Graduate...tells it like it is." Although Benjamin Braddock is a champion debater, they notice that throughout the movie he has trouble forming simple sentences when talking to adults. The "phoniness of suburban society" permeates the film. The intuitive soundtrack leads us to think that the film contains the same insight as Simon and Garfunkel, but Benjamin cannot even think the same way. They see him as "stupid and awkward, not sensitive and alienated." They also see comedy in the scene where he sees Mrs. Robinson naked as opposed to the serious introspection that these shots give the viewer. To them Ben is insensitive to Mrs. Robinson, and a very shallow character. As far as symbolism goes, the colors black and white are more of a "coloring-book morality play" instead of symbols of the cold values of one society and rebellious values of the other. This use of colors is "a cheap dramatic trick" to discern the two generations. Another interesting criticism of the authors is that they find Nichols inexperienced in filmmaking. The lack of a love story and absence of sexual scenes is a failure in their eyes.

    One criticism that actually manifests one of Nichols' arguments is that the young characters in the movie act too maturely. The critics state that the film "is an insult to young people who aren't so goody-goody." The truth is that the young people are only mature and "goody-goody" because their parents' generation makes them this way. Their value system makes the youth appear and act this way although they are dying to do things differently. Another bad criticism is how they find the scuba diving scene too "self-conscious." The truth is that the critics don't have the intelligence to understand or mention the significance of drowning, unlike Schuth. Nichols certainly knew what he was doing, even though Farber and Changas think otherwise.

Sarris, Andrew. The American Cinema. New York: E.P. Dutton & Co., 1968. 217-218.

Call#: PN1993.5.U6 S3

     In his critical assessment of directors and their pictures in the sound era, Andrew Sarris focuses on directors' ability to totally control a motion picture and manifest their artistic and stylistic ability. He calls this auteur theory. A director is like an author writing a novel - he has complete creative license and direction to create the various characters, setting, tone, and mood of the film. Sarris states that "everything Mike Nichols has touched on stage and screen has turned to gold, if not glory." He says that Nichols' film Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf? preened itself on its honesty. At that time Nichols was trying to bring a subtlety to Hollywood, and he "trascended The Graduate." The actors in the movie had "little marquee value", and Charles Webb's novel on which the movie is based was not well-known. Nichols' neat and eclectic style is what made the film so successful. He is considered to be more a tactician than a strategist. It should also be noted that Nichols is mentioned in other directors' pieces in the book. He is compared to Frances Ford Coppola in his entry. It's clear that Sarris has great respect for Nichols and recognizes him as an auteur.
     Throughout The Graduate, it's clear that Nichols has complete control over the film's production. There are many scenes that are extremely creative and very different than what most people were used to seeing in the 1960s. For example, the film begins with Benjamin Braddock's flight home to Los Angeles. He is shown sitting lazily on the plane listening to the monotonous voice of the pilot describing the weather. This scene, both unique and simple, is proof of Nichols' control over the characters and the setting of the film.