Cinematography - 5/5 stars. The scenes in the wide open spaces of the American west are gorgeous, and director Terrence Malick serves them up to us one after another.
Acting - 3/5 stars. Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek are both strong, and well-cast. Sheen is compelling in a low-key way (though let's calm down on the comparisons to James Dean), and it's hard to believe Spacek was 24 at the time. On the other hand, none of the victims of this pair's crimes show any fear, much less terror. Their collective performances are quite wooden, minimizing the reality and impact of the violence.
Honesty - 1/5 stars. Have a look at the real Charles Starkweather's story. We don't see Sheen strangling and stabbing a two-year-old baby, as Starkweather did. We don't see his attempted rape, or various other acts of vicious cruelty. Instead we see him killing people with shots to the chest, and not out of malice. We see him essentially glorified, dancing with Spacek in front of the car's headlights to a Nat King Cole tune, philosophizing ("Try to keep an open mind. Try to understand the viewpoints of others." etc), and winning over members of the National Guard and law enforcement when caught, tossing them items from his jacket as if he's a rock star.
The casualness of violence, the murder of people as if they're animals (which are also ill-treated in the film), America's fascination with gun-toting outlaws, and the ease with which we identify with a sociopath all seem to be a part of the point of film, but I don't think you can have it both ways - to go for that, and to not be authentic. Instead it feels like a young man's fantasy version of a serial killer, and doesn't ring true.
I deduct a further half point because for me, it's not a subject that's all that pleasant or heartening to watch. Perhaps that's why it has to be so sugar-coated - wrapped up in beautiful scenes, Spacek's gentle voiceover, and a kind treatment of the killer.
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