As a counterpoint to Thelma and Louise and Badlands, this is the unromanticised, pathetic cry for attention and escape. Two anonymous casualties of society unintentionally crash and burn their way through the suburban sprawl of the Florida wetlands, an ecological miracle now supposedly re-claimed for twentieth century progress. Except their crashing and burning barely gets them out of their home state such is their ineptitude and powerlessness. Even with a real and yet symbolic gun they still can't capture that dream; inept burglaries, and an accidental shooting all they can muster. In the city they'd descend into an underworld of disease and drugs but in the wide recovered flats of the Everglades there isn't a subculture they can lose themselves in. Kelly Reichardt's minimal style, long takes and static camera just emphasises their hopelessness. There's no cathartic cliff to drive off at the end just a slow moving highway going nowhere special.
Review of River of Grass
