Martin Scorsese's second film, made under the mantle of Roger Corman's exploitation studio AIP, is a trove of hints rather than a declaration of the genius that was to follow.
The performances are wonderfully naturalistic, as Barbara Hershey and Depression-era cronies plunder the corrupt local railroad, hellbent on self-destruction; the film is a deliberate echo of Bonnie And Clyde. It's hard to miss that this is a study of American antiheroics, with the gentle chime of religious guilt. Sound familiar? There is also no escaping the general looseness of the script and the demand to insert as much flesh and violence as possible.