Natural Born Killers at 30: Oliver Stone’s brash button-pusher remains tiresome

When it came out 30 years ago, Natural Born Killers was a shake-and-bake controversy magnet, crudely calibrated to attract the same cultural firestorm it portends to dissect. If there were a way for the film to edit itself into one of its rapid-fire montages of violent, media-driven fiascos, surely Stone would have done it. Handing the least-subtle American director material this inherently combustible is like supplying an arsonist with a cache of TNT. Stone got the public outcry and editorials he wanted – and a rash of NBK-inspired shootings he didn’t – but his lobotomized Badlands is close to unwatchable, a ceaseless barrage of visual effects in support of the same point about the collision of violence, media and celebrity. Each of the nearly 3,000 edits hits like a ball-peen hammer.