Terrence Rafferty

“Thelma and Louise are lively, voluble good old girls, and they're not given to brooding; they keep each other's spirits up. The audience's, too. Davis and Sarandon are so vivid and likable that they carry up past the plot's most obvious contrivances; a little disbelief seems a small price to pay for being allowed to remain in their company….Error! Reference source not found.

"Davis is spectacular, but Sarandon, whose character has a less extreme emotional range, is every bit as good. Louise, a fortyish diner waitress…, is steadier, world-wearier, and more practical than her young friend. She has a been-there look about her, and she doesn't trust people much; she's always scolding Thelma for striking up conversations with strangers. (And her suspiciousness always turns out to be justified.) In many scenes, Sarandon plays straight person to Davis, and does it with the skill and good humor of an extremely confident actress. She trains a penetrating, no-nonsense stare on her companion's antics; her looks of affectionate disbelief often mirror the audience's reactions. And when she breaks down and laughs, giving in to the craziness around her, her abandon is infectious. Sarandon holds our attention by not betraying her character's emotions too readily. Her held-in quality makes an effective contrast to Davis's overflowing exuberance, and it has its own power, too; in a sense, Sarandon's mysterious straight-ahead intensity is what propels the story forward.

"There's an exhilarating ease and intuitiveness in the way these actresses work together; we feel, and share, their pleasure in surprising each other. "Thelma & Louise" is at its best in its most casual, most aimless-seeming moments, in the dawdling intervals between "important" scenes, while the women are just zipping down the highway and trying to figure out what to do next. (Or why they did what they did last. They often seem as dumbfounded by the story as the audience is.) And Ridley Scott provides an abundance of moments like these: scenes in which the women tease each other or get on each other's nerves or sing along with the car radio, as their hair blows all over their faces. The camera lingers on Davis and Sarandon as if it couldn't get enough of them: Scott seems to want to show us what they look like in every kind of light and every kind of mood. The director's entranced gaze slows down the rhythm of the narrative; quite a lot happens in this movie, but it has a leisurely, expansive air...."

Terrence Rafferty
New Yorker, June 3, 1991