In the 1960s, I saw the classic Bonnie and Clyde. It was part of a group of films that changed my view of cinema. Others films in the group were The Graduate and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. All of those movies took a conventional story and stood it on its head. The Graduate dealt with love that was complicated when the young man was in an adulterous affair with his girlfriend’s mother. Butch Cassidy glorified the bad guys, and Bonnie and Clyde, robbers and murderers, were depicted as amiable friends and champions of the common folk. The Highwaymen seeks to correct that image.
The good guys are the Texas lawmen who brought down Bonnie and Clyde. Before they arrive on the scene, the FBI, under J. Edgar Hoover, thinks that new forensic technology will lead to the capture of the criminals. But when the crime spree intensifies and Bonnie and Clyde are still at large, two former Texas rangers, Frank Hamer and Maney Gault, are recruited out of retirement to get the job done. They use basic low-tech detective work to track them down.
Hamer and Gault possess dissimilar temperaments. Hamer simply wants to kill Bonnie and Clyde. His is sick and tired of the public romanticizing their exploits and not recognizing the barbarity of their killing of innocents. Gault is also bothered by their notoriety. When he sees a poem by Bonnie in a local newspaper, he remarks: “Used to be, you had to have talent to get published. Now you just have to shoot people.”
Gault agrees with Hamer’s assessment of Bonnie and Clyde for the most part, but he would prefer to capture them. He is very much concerned about the collateral damage of ambushing them. Memories of past deadly encounters with criminals in which bystanders were killed still haunt him.
Hamer and Gault are not interested in publicity. They only want justice. They are humble men who take pride in serving the law-abiding public.
Humility is a classic Jewish virtue, especially when it is manifest in Jewish leaders. Moses, the greatest prophet in the Bible, is referred to as the most humble of all men (Numbers 12:3). Moreover, Abraham, the Patriarch, refers to himself as nothing but dust and ashes (Genesis 18:27).
The great deciders of Jewish law in contemporary times gained acceptance by the masses for their erudition and knowledge and also for their good character. Rabbis Moshe Feinstein and Joseph Soloveitchik, Torah luminaries of the twentieth century, were not scholars who sought the limelight. People simply sought out their wisdom and they did their best to respond.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks shares an insight about why Jews generally value genuine humility and do not seek out recognition or notoriety: “Appearances deceive. The Hebrew word for garment, begged, comes from the same Hebrew word as to betray – as in the confession Ashamnu bagadnu, We are guilty, we have betrayed.”
The text indicates that we should not posture nor see ourselves as powerful and influential people. Rather we should view ourselves as modest, seeking to complete our mission as human beings on this earth. We should not yearn for recognition for the deeds that we do, especially when the deeds we perform are clearly the right things to do even without recognition.
Bob Diener, founder of Hotels.com and a motivational lecturer, examines Talmudic sources and concludes that a successful life involves promoting the welfare of others, not just gaining accolades and fame for oneself: “Success is not just what we have done personally, but what we have done to pass on Jewish values and wisdom to the next generation. Did you have children and raise them to continue the mission of improving the world around us?”
The Highwaymen reminds us that the good that we do is more important than any recognition we can receive. Frank Hamer and Maney Gault did their job well; any public recognition of their completed task was not the motivator for their good deeds. Their humble work ethic is worth thinking about.