film

Tarantino, The Hateful Eight, and the Seven Films Prior

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Tarantino might not be the hot topic like he was 20 odd years ago, but he still stands as one of the most influential and imitated filmmakers of all time. He practically defined the art of cinema for an entire generation through his liberal application of taboo topics, over the top, often brutal, and always stylized acts of violence, and unheard of levels of characterization. Whether it be through more direct imitations of his style (The Boondock Saints, Things to Do in Denver When You’re Dead), or whether he paved the way for everything from Fargo to Mulholland Dr. to reach an ever expanding audience, I have little doubt that he’ll be listed among classics like Hitchcock, Kubrick, Coppola, Scorcese…indeed most people would already rank him among such giants. However, it’s undeniable that is films have changed in very obvious ways over the years, and I often wonder if he’ll ever manage to shake the world again like he did with Pulp Fiction.

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I distinctly remember being about 12 or 13 and recognizing movies as more than just simple entertainment; I suppose in my own child-like way I was appreciating film as art. Very quickly I traded in my weekend trips to rent games to rent movies. Usually I was allowed to pick out a “new release” and then another one from the “old stuff” that’s only half the price to rent. Now I didn’t immediately latch on to a certain director (or even actor) – I really didn’t have much of a game plan other than to rent movies that I remember having cool previews (remember, this was the age of VHS, as well as a more robust and varied cinema environment in general,so we were all exposed to los and lots of previews). Eventually my love of film led me to some of the most talked about and controversial films of the 90’s, especially crime films, drug films, and the decade’s more surreal flicks. Long story short I began pinpointing my interests, learning more about film itself (including that a movie is primarily the artistic vision of the director), and building up a collection of my favorites.

Tarantino rose to the top of my list for obvious reasons: his works are darkly humorous (and not in today’s hyper-ironic sense of the word), they were intricate – from narrative, characterization, and structural perspectives, and they’re chock full of the sort of stylized violence that the 90’s were known for. Gun fights in the 80’s were boring – a couple of guys peeping around corners or running down a street – but Tarantino and his counterparts, as well as others outside that particular sphere (notably John Woo) brought us flashy, improbable gun fights that toyed idly with the laws of physics. There was jumping, falling, backwards shooting, two-handed shooting, and more…Tarantino took it to a new level by creating interesting and memorable contexts for his violence. Some folks – parents, teachers, preachers, politicians – have derided such material as negatively influential, but personally, I see it as fantastic escapism for those more…aggressive urges…that we all have from time to time.

I’m not sure which of his films I saw first, but it was probably Pulp Fiction. From there I branched out and I’ve done a pretty good job of keeping up with his releases over the years. His latest film, The Hateful Eight, is an interesting throwback to his earlier films combined with the polish that his more recent films display. I’d be hard pressed to pick a favorite out of his 8 films, though I definitely prefer his early work. This slice is devoted to taking a short(ish) look at each of his films and going over what I see as each’s strengths and weaknesses. Although only 8 films can properly be called “his” films, I’ve included a few others due to his level of involvement and their retention of a “Tarantino-esque” feel.

(Hopefully the number “8” makes sense to you, though I guess technically it should be 8 and one fourth for his segment in Four Rooms. If you don’t count any short films and count Kill Bill as a single film (which it should be), you shouldn’t have any trouble.)

Reservoir Dogs (1992)

I said earlier that I’d be hard pressed to choose a favorite Tarantino film, but this is definitely up there. I still remember watching it for the first time as a young teenager and deciphering the film’s unusual structure. Here we have a film that’s all about a jewel heist, yet we never see the heist – just the events before and after, and sometimes from different characters’ perspectives. It’s an early example of Tarantino’s knack for storytelling and use of a possibly unreliable narrator. The whole thing is brilliantly crafted – it’s not so much about the story itself but rather how it’s told. In fact, the core story isn’t all that remarkable, but in unfolds in such a unique way that it’s difficult to quit watching.

Most people will remember Dogs for its colorful (literally) cast of characters, particularly Mr. White, Mr. Pink, Mr. Orange, and of course, Mr. Blonde. Harvey Keitel, as Mr. White, delivers one of the best performances of his career as a hardened, professional, middle-aged crook. Buscemi is equally memorable, remaining fairly level-headed with Mr. White but also overtly suspicious of his fellow criminals. Of course the biggest standout is Michael Madsen as Mr. Blonde, one of the most sadistic individuals ever spawned from the crime genre. If you haven’t seen the scene I’m talking about I won’t spoil it, but it’s probably one of the more intense scenes you’re likely to see in mainstream cinema.

After this seminal moment (which itself is capped off by a bit of a surprise ending) the film enters a prolonged “cool down” where we get most of the film’s backstory. I said that the film covers the events leading up to and directly after a jewelry heist, but there’s a catch: the robbery went wrong, and a few of the crooks suspect that one of them is an undercover officer. As the film launches into the exposition surrounding “the rat” it loses some of its “oomph,” and though I guess the material is still vital to the story, it feels like it could’ve been tightened up a bit. This pace-breaking “sidebar” is most obvious on repeat viewings.

The cast is rounded out by the crime boss and his son, as well as Tarantino himself as Mr. Brown, who dies early on along with Mr. Blue. Early on Tarantino shows his penchant for capturing non-essential conversations – such as Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” being a metaphor for “big dicks” (a point which does make sense) – and choreographing “cool violence,” a la Mr. White dual-wielding a pair of handguns. Conventional filmmakers rarely insert incidental dialog in their movies, but Tarantino is a master of so-called meaningless conversations, and many of them are both mildly insightful as well as humorous. He also builds up an amazing amount of suspense leading up to the final scene in what might be his best ending ever. It’s a brilliant take on the “Mexican stand-off” and an absolute shocker to those used to happy endings.

Dogs is a little grittier and grimier than his later films, but it works in the film’s favor. It’s also much more grounded and less surreal than future works of his. If you’ve gone this long without seeing it, this should definitely be one of your first stops if going through Tarantino’s repertoire.

True Romance* (1993)

* Not one of Tarantino’s 8, but close. True Romance was actually the first script Tarantino wrote. The film would go on to be directed by Tony Scott (brother of the more well known Ridley Scott), and though it’s absent Tarantino’s directorial touches, the script is undoubtedly his.

This film is much more straightforward than your typical Tarantino flick, but the story and the action all bear his style. The trashy love story is at home in Tarantino’s ugly universe, though it is noticeably a shade or two less cynical. Scott did a reasonable job with the brutal violence in the original script, doing his best to craft his own indelible moment via the scene between Christopher Walken’s character (one of the mob guys), and Dennis Hopper (our protagonist’s father). The scene is tense and uncomfortable, but it’s the conversation between the two that bears Tarantino’s trademark. (Hopper’s character, defiant in the face of certain death, relates to the Italian mobster (Walken) a story about how the Sicilians were spawned from “niggers.”)

The story is a big hokey and as a result unbelievable. I’m not sure whether to blame Tarantino’s script, Scotts’ directorial abilities, or the chemistry between Christian Slater and Patricia Arquette. Neither is as convincing as they should be, and it’s the supporting cast that really props up the film. The second half revolves around selling cocaine to a movie producer (Lee Donowitz), a character who Tarantino would later identify as the son of Donny Donowitz from Inglourious Basterds.

I like Romance well enough on its own, but it’s obviously more light-hearted and less bleak than Tarantino’s usual fare. It’s less nihilistic than its counterparts, a fact which will make it easier to swallow for some fans. The main problem is that all the action revolves around this whirlwind all-consuming Romeo-&-Juliet style romance, yet Slater and Arquette don’t adequately pull it off. Neither of them is believably caught up in this world of pimps and drug dealers and mobsters…in any other movie these poor schmoes would be executed without incident. Their characters just don’t “fit” and their romance doesn’t really make its way to the audience. Still, it’s a fun ride from start to finish and it’s also sort of fun to imagine how it would be different if Tarantino had been at the helm.

Pulp Fiction (1994)

Undoubtedly his most well known work and perhaps his finest, Pulp Fiction was the film that put independent film on the map and in our collective cultural consciousness…even though calling it an indie film itself is a bit of a misnomer. At any rate, it is a fantastic movie by any standards and serious movie lovers probably remember the first time they saw Pulp Fiction, or at least how they felt about it. It’s extremely satisfying and 100% unique. Well ok, it may not be as fresh as it once was, but if anything, that’s merely a testament to the overwhelming impact it had and how many directors and writers did their damnedest to create “Pulp Fiction II.”

We’re treated to a landmark performance from Samuel L. Jackson, not to mention a multitude of memorable quotes. Much like Dogs, it’s less about the story itself and more about how it’s told. The script expands on the witticisms and incidental conversations first seen in Dogs, though they’re more polished and better integrated. The “foot massage” conversation, Jimmy’s (played by Tarantino) “dead nigger storage” rant, Jule’s pre-murder bible quote…Pulp Fiction is really just a string of clever moments between quirky characters.

Once again we enter the seedy underworld of modern day gangsters. Again expanding on territory explored in Dogs, there is no moral center, no high ground, no “right thing to do.” I think that’s one of the things that makes this and similar films so appealing on an escapist level – who we’re “supposed” to root for or sympathize with is much murkier; on a cinematic level, our expectations are pretty much thrown out the window and it becomes difficult to predict, and we all know how boring a predictable film can be.

Tarantino’s surreal world of murderers and thieves will leave some viewers asking questions
like, “what’s the point?” It’s a fair question, but not entirely applicable to this sort of new breed of movie that had long existed but was relatively new to mainstream audiences. There is no point. Each scene is something to be savored and enjoyed for its own sake. There’s no presiding theme or message; it’s a snippet of time that we’re plugged into for a couple of hours. If you ever find yourself searching for “the point” of something like Pulp Fiction, quit racking your brain, and instead enjoy moments like, “I shot Marvin in the face,” or, “You’re gonna go home, you’re gonna jerk off, and that’s all your gonna do,” or, “I’ma get medieval on your ass,” and on and on. The dialog is so much of what makes it a treat to watch.

Natural Born Killers* (1994)

* This film led to one of the biggest directorial feuds of the decade as these 2 heavyweights clashed. Tarantino penned the script, but Oliver Stone ended up directing the film. Regardless of which side of the argument you find yourself on, it’s still one of the greatest crime/road movies of all time, and unfortunately we’ll never know what Tarantino’s version might’ve looked like.

Quite often my admiration for Natural Born Killers (NBK) overshadows my appreciation for Tarantino. It’s such a powerful, disturbing, visceral, brutal, and poignant piece of work. NBK certainly doesn’t play out like a Tarantino film…at least not on the surface. It’s more like a Tarantino flick on acid. It’s definitely got his brand of violence and his penchant for the amoral, but the witty dialog is absent and the humor is more of a satirical nature. Stone had a message he wanted to get across – namely about the presentation of violence in the media and our subsequent desynsetization to it as a culture. How effective the message is will depend on who you are, but it’s definitely there, in-your-face, no subtlety or subtext or undercurrent to uncover.

NBK isn’t the most graphic or gory film to hit the mainstream, but it is easily one of the most brutal, especially the Director’s Cut version (which I highly recommend over the theatrical cut). The film is divided into 2 very distinct halves. The first is the “road movie” portion, while the second chronicles the couple’s prison escape. Similar to True Romance, and perhaps even more similar to Badlands (music from the latter is featured heavily in the former), the story revolves around a couple and their “love” for each other. Enter Mickey and Mallory Knox. Woody Harrelson has played a few good roles over the years and even more questionable ones, ut he is absolute gold in the role of Mickey Knox. I especially enjoy his transformation from half-crazed white trash drifter to full-on self-assured destructive force of nature. They’re aren’t many moments in film that are as badass as Mickey engineering the riot and taking over the room full of news personnel.

Mallory Knox, played by Juliette Lewis, always feels like the weak link to me. I think she’s just a little too over the top and white trash-y…but maybe that’s the point. At any rate, the 2 of them together are certainly believable as a batshit insane couple spree-killing their way across the country. Personally, I think a more attractive female lead would’ve helped. Despite the fact that Mallory’s character oozes sex throughout the film, she’s just not all that appealing (to me), and really, what’s more pathetic than watching a not-so-hot chick act like she’s really hot…?

Long before the family-friendly egomaniac that we now know as Tony Stark, Robert Downey Jr. was Wayne Gale, and what an excellent Wayne Gale he was! Here’s a guy in the thick of the media, and as an audience we get to see how his constant coverage (and promotion) of violence affects him. His journey from start to finish is easily worth an essay or two, not to mention the energy that Downey brings to the role. Tommy Lee Jones and Tom Sizemore round out the main cast as the sadistic prison warden and the sadistic cop, both doing an amazing job at channeling their inner scumbag and portraying absolutely deplorable, irredeemable characters.

Like Tarantino, Stone really knows how to bring out the best in his actors (well, sometimes at least) but Tarantino’s dark and cynical whimsy is replaced this sort of hyper-zealous and infallible way of thinking and behaving. Each of these sickos is sick in his or her own way, yet they’re also immutable in their sickness, which makes it all the more interesting as we watch them clash and attempt to best each other throughout the film – often with deliberately morally ambiguous outcomes. From the repulsiveness of McClusky’s laugh, to the look of “crazy” in Mickey’s eyes, to Mallory’s unflinching willingness to claw her way through an opponent like a wild animal, this is a cast that embraces its characters’ depravity…and makes it their own!

Part of what makes NBK so “weird” is the frenetic editing. Images are distorted, color treated, and manipulated in several ways, not to mention interspersed with animation as well as actual TV footage (mostly from popular trials of the times, such as the Menendez Brothers). I can see where the frenzied mish-mash might be distracting for older generations, but I think it adds to the surreal, TV zombie / couch potato feel of it all, plus I never feel like it truly gets in the way of the story. It may come close (particularly the thing with the Indian and the snakebite), though it tends to stop just short of annoying or unnecessary.

As awesome as it would be to have a “Tarantino NBK,” it’s hard to imagine it any other way. It’s definitely the best work of Stone’s career, and it’s quite interesting to see a different director’s take on Tarantino’s wanton violence – particularly the removal of the overtly humorous overtones. If you’ve yet to see NBK, take a few minutes to watch the opening diner scene. I won’t spoil anything, but suffice to say, you’ll either be absolutely hooked or absolutely repulsed…maybe even both!

Killing Zoe* (1994)

* This film actually has very little to do with Tarantino, but it was always in my “Tarantino-ish pile” back in the day. I’ll keep this entry short since Tarantino had little to no direct involvement with the film, though it’s well worth watching if you dig the typical “Tarantino flavor.”

Tarantino acted as “executive producer” for Killing Zoe, and if you know much about titles like “executive producer,” you’ll know it doesn’t necessarily mean much of anything. Despite his lack of involvement, it always felt like Killing Zoe belonged in the Tarantino circle, or at least close by. Indeed it was directed by one of Tarantino’s contemporaries, Roger Avary.

Zoe is another bleak, nihilistic piece of filmmaking with just a shred of humanizing romance thrown in. A modern day heist film replete with sex, drugs, booze, drugs, heroin, blood, drugs, and male-on-male rape (while on drugs), it’s reminiscent of Tarantino’s work in that it’s tough to stomach but also tough to turn away. It features Eric Stoltz (Vincent’s heroin dealer from Pulp Fiction) as the “good guy,” and this crazy French guy as the main antagonist. The drug-addled first half may be a chore for some to sit through, but once the robbery proper begins, it plays out like an extended, grittier, grimier, and foreign version of Point Break gone wrong. (I’m talking about the old ’91 Point Break, not the recent remake drivel…) It should be noted that even though Zoe has a foreign quality about it, it is in fact 100% domestic. The entire look and feel of the film is unique and has a more down to earth feeling than the usual flash and glitz of mainstream movies.

The French actor – whose name escapes me at the moment – is what makes Zoe the dark rollercoaster that it is. It’s not hard to imagine him as some incarnation of the devil…the carefree, hedonistic, fiercely independent sort of devil who’s completely occupied with the present. Watching him effortlessly bounce between euphoria and serenity to raging murderer to vacant and apathetic is downright eerie, and his constant alternating between French and English gives his madness a very real idiosyncratic touch.

I won’t spend any more time on Zoe since it is so far removed from Tarantino’s proper directorial (or even writing) work, but the average Tarantino fan should enjoy it. What is perhaps most interesting is the ending. You could see it as mundane and happily ever after and all that…or you could keep a few pieces of plainly given information in mind, use your brain, and suddenly an entirely different possibility emerges…

Four Rooms* (Segment: The Man from Hollywood) (1995)

* Ok ok, at this point you may be thinking, “another exception!? I thought this was a Tarantino list!” But bear with me – Four Rooms legitimately belongs in the Tarantino pantheon…at least the final segment, The Man from Hollywood, does!

Four Rooms is one of those movies that should’ve been a hell of a lot better than it was. On paper it sounds pretty good: a bellhop works a hotel on New Years Eve, visiting 4 different rooms. Each room acts as its own vignette, each headed by a different director. I don’t know who the first two are – Allison Anders and Alexandre Rockwell – but the second two segments were done by Rodriguez and Tarantino.

I’m going to run through this one pretty quickly because it’s not all that good, and I don’t honestly recommend it. The first two segments are pretty terrible. The first involves a group of witches (one of whom is played by Madonna) who are conspiring to use the bellhop (played by Tarantino alum Tim Roth) in some sort of ritual. It ends up bordering on slapstick, and though it’s meant to be darkly humorous, it comes off as silly and inane. The next story is even worse. Roth walks in on a couple during some sort of role playing incident where the husband is “accusing” Roth of sleeping with his wife. I don’t know what the director was shooting for, but this is easily the hardest segment to sit through, mostly because it’s abso-fuckin-lutely boring.

Segment number three, The Misbehavers, is often considered the best of the bunch. Rodriguez manages to grab Banderas for the role of the father, who’s 2 children get in all sorts of mischief while he and his wife leave for a New Years Eve party. Of course Roth is tasked with babysitting and mayhem ensues. There are some funny moments here, such as the toothpaste on the eyelids and the utter ridiculousness of the dead hooker in the mattress, and while it probably is the most entertaining of the lot, it just feels a bit empty and pointless.

Tarantino’s segment concludes the film and revolves around a simple bet: Tarantino, in the role of a hot shot movie director, is hosting a rowdy party with his entourage. One of his friends bets that he can light his Zippo 10 times in a row. If successful, he wins the director’s car; if not, the sober Roth is tasked with cutting his pinky off. I won’t spoil it, and while the segment isn’t particularly amazing, it at least has a little bit of a story to it and a modicum of suspense as arrangements are made and the film builds up to the fateful moment.

Take a look at Four Rooms if you’re a completist or if you just enjoy seeing Tarantino’s quirky brand of acting, but don’t settle in for a “good movie.” In fact it’s pretty damn awful, and it’s no wonder that it’s quickly been shoved under the rug when it comes to discussions of Tarantino’s (or Rodriguez’s) efforts in general.

From Dusk Till Dawn* (1996)

* In this offbeat horror flick, Tarantino boasts a writing, acting, and executive producer credit. It actually feels almost exactly what I imagine a Tarantino horror movie to feel like!

Don’t worry, I won’t be taking us to the god-awful sequels, but the first entry is well worth watching. Although technically the artistic product of Robert Rodriguez, it bears certain Tarantino hallmarks, several of which were shared by both directors back in the ’90s. It’s sort of a silly movie, yet it’s a surprisingly well done silly movie.

Tarantino plays a supporting role doing his usual creeper-character sort of thing, the brother of lead George Clooney. Together they’re the Gecko Brothers, notorious for their crimes and prison escapes. Clooney was not the right choice for the role, but he does his best and I can’t really blame him for being miscast. Being a total badass (a la Mickey Knox) requires a delicate balance between sleaze and balls, neither of which Clooney is able to channel. At any rate, the opening scene is pretty damn awesome, reminding me of something between Pulp Fiction’s diner scene and the opening scene of NBK (also featuring a diner). It’s an excellent swath of violence that both sets the tone of the film and lulls the audience into thinking we’re getting another NBK-ish style film.

Harvey Keitel, another Tarantino regular (Mr. White in Dogs, Mr. Wolf in Pulp Fiction) plays against type as a concerned, protective, and mild-mannered father figure. He’s excellent in the role, with a warmth and gentleness about as far from his other roles as you can get. Juliette Lewis stars as his daughter, and horror veterans Tom Savini and Ken Foree round out the cast, with appearances from Rodriguez favorites Salma Hayek and Cheech Marin.

What starts off as a “road movie” screeches to a halt and then pulls a complete 180. On the run and looking for cover, the Gecko Brothers take Jacob (Keitel) and his family hostage while they hide out a bar until dawn. I hate to spoil it for anyone who hasn’t seen it – if only everyone could go into it knowing as little as I did – but as it turns out, the bar is populated by vampires who feast on the patrons nightly. It’s a jolting transition but Rodriguez handles it well. Thematically Dawn borrows more from zombie flicks than vampire movies, though the end result is satisfying, mostly because we’re still treated to all the violence and gore that we expected back when we thought we’d be following the Geckos around on a killing spree.

Dawn is definitely an offbeat little gem, and though it may fall short of a masterpiece, an interesting cast and its sharp dialog keep it from feeling stale or derivative. It’s not really a horror movie either, though I suppose that’s the best label we’ve got. And for the record, Dawn sports one of my favorite movie utterances of all time: “They were vampires! Psychos do not explode when sunlight hits them, I don’t give a fuck how crazy they are!”

Oh and just for the fun of it, we can be 100% sure that this takes place in the “Tarantino Universe” (however loosely you want to apply the term) because the Texas Ranger played by Michael Parks (who is killed in the opening scene) later appears in Death Proof!

Jackie Brown (1997)

Moving back into proper Tarantino territory, Jackie Brown (film number 3) is one his films that has sort of faded into the background as the years have rolled on. It’s classic Tarantino at its finest – more polished and intricate than Dogs and tighter, more focused than Fiction. Remember how I labeled some of his films as unremarkable stories presented in a remarkable way? Jackie Brown marks a change of pace where the complex plot takes center stage and while Tarantino uses his “film tricks” much more sparingly.

The story takes a lot of twists and turns, but it’s basically centered on a large sum of money and various individuals’ attempts to procure that money for themselves. Alliances are made and broken, there’s doublecrossing, betrayal, even murder…it’s all woven together in a very gratifying way.

Adapted from the novel Rum Punch, Jackie Brown is significantly more straightforward that most of his films and hearkens back to the blaxploitation flicks of the ’70s. It’s tough to go into much detail about Brown without discussing certain plot points, but imagine the film as a puzzle that Tarantino expertly pieces together in just the right order to keep you fully vested but always guessing as to the outcome. It’s not the progressive vision that we’re used to with Tarantino, though it does show off his abilities as a mature filmmaker who can tell a solid story.

Cast-wise, it’s a bit different as well, relying far less on Tarantino’s stable of actors than previous films. You’ll of course recognize Samuel L. Jackson as the gangster Ordell Robie, as well as others who aren’t so familiar in Tarantino’s work, including DeNiro, Robert Forrester, Bridget Fonda, and Pam Grier in the title role. Even though it may not look as similar to other Tarantino films at first glance, it’s thick with the sort of moral ambiguity that he’s so fond of portraying, and it has its share of violent and even somewhat shocking moments. If you’re a little timid about jumping into the non-linear story of Dogs or the overlapping, episodic nature of Fiction, Jackie Brown might just be an excellent starting point for anyone wishing to get into Tarantino in general or more specifically his older material.

Kill Bill (2003 – 2004)

Tarantino took a bit of a break around the turn of the century and reemerged in 2003 with the first half of his epic kung fu homage, Kill Bill: Volume 1. A year later the second half dropped (Kill Bill: Volume 2). I’m quite surprised at how many people view these as separate films, when the director himself has stated multiple times that Kill Bill is in fact a single film that he chose to “cut in half” at the behest of the producers. He ran with the idea because it meant that he wouldn’t have to make extensive cuts to the final product. So no, Volume 2 is not a sequel to Volume 1. No, the 2 “volumes” were not shot back-to-back. Everything you see was all created as one single film, and it was only after production ended that the decision was made to cut the movie in half, a decision Tarantino was happy with because it meant 1) he didn’t have to deal with the possible backlash of release a 4-hour movie theatrically, and 2) he wouldn’t be forced to excise a ton of material to make for a more conventional running time.

Alright, with the history lesson out of the way, I think it’s important to note that Kill Bill marked a significant departure from the Tarantino we were used to in the ’90s. Sure, it was still violent – excessively so – and it could still turn the stomachs of the squeamish, and it could still raise a few eyebrows here and there, but by and large we ended up with a much more “digestible” piece of work. For starters, Bill is missing some of the grit of previous movies, probably because of the pervading oriental themes that tend to lend it a slightly mystical quality. Personally I could’ve done without this aspect, mostly because of my disinterest in the subject but also because I feel that imbuing the film with vague notions of a samurai or warrior’s code diminishes its Western appeal.

I didn’t grow up on kung fu movies nor have I chosen to watch them on my own time. Maybe that’s part of the problem. I can only assume that Bill is playing off of lots of conventions that I don’t understand, but I always find myself getting a little bored when they start talking about those damn swords, or the flashback to Beatrix’s training, or any fucking scene involving Bill.

Had the movie leaned a little more towards rape-and-revenge / exploitation flick, I think I’d like it much better. The entire pulse behind the movie – Beatrix hunting down her former colleagues and now would-be assassins – sounds like the perfect scenario for the Tarantino treatment, and in fact some of the best parts are when she fights Elle, gives the “come and get me” speech to Copperhead’s daughter, and when she claws her way out of her own grave.

On the other hand, the film goes just a little too heavy on some of the sappier scenes, which just don’t resonate and instead feel both out of place and out of character. Mostly I’m referencing Beatrix’s wedding, the time she spends with her daughter, and the odd but obvious fact that she’s still very much in love with Bill himself. I get that Tarantino wanted to inject some “heart” into the film and I get that having something wholesome snatched away is a pre-requisite to a rape-and-revenge film, but I don’t know…I can’t put my finger on it, but the scenes feel contrived and alien, and break up the pace in strange ways.

Sometimes I really can’t fathom Tarantino’s casting choices, and Uma Thurman as Beatrix / Black Mamba is one of them. Thurman isn’t bad in the role, I just feel like there are so many actresses out there who could bring so much more to it. At the end of the day though, I can live with Uma, but the choice that really grinds my gears is David Carradine as Bill. Bill was painted as this larger than life kind of guy, with “balls big enough for a dumptruck” and clearly unrivaled combat abilities. But to see an aging Carradine in the role is almost a disappointment. I don’t know if it’s him, how he played Bill, or how Tarantino wrote Bill, but something is not working. I expected someone tough but composed, charismatic and intelligent, someone smooth and likable who all the guys wanted to be…maybe an older Patrick Swayze (I know I know, he died before Bill), or Kurt Russell, or even someone less obvious like Stallone. Carradine was too old, and he came off too much like some sort of hippie-nerd. He was a coward and a cheat – I got the impression that he hooked these girls through coercion, or exploiting their vulnerabilities, or maybe even straight up trickery, not simply because he was cool enough to have some nigh magical effect on them. No, this wasn’t the suave and all-knowing and all-powerful Bill of legend…this was a weaselly little dweeb who got lucky.

Anyway, the remainder of the cast doesn’t stand out as much as usual in a Tarantino flick, mostly because we’re pretty much taking this journey with Beatrix and seeing it all through her eyes rather than the 3rd person perspective that we’re usually given. Michael Madsen, as much of a treat as he was as Mr. Blonde in Dogs, still can’t manage to top or even match that performance. Maybe he was under-utilized…or maybe Bud just wasn’t that interesting to begin with. Daryl Hannah is sufficiently enjoyable as the evil-meets-crazy senior assassin, and I also though Lucy Liu did an excellent job of turning her innocent, almost pubescent looks into a veil that masked her murderous potential.

I’ve gotten this far without getting into what happens in which half, though I will close this out by saying the first half (Volume 1) is a lot more fun to watch than the second (Volume 2). However, standing as a single, completed film, it’s obviously too long for its own good. A large part of me thinks that the whole package would be a much better movie if it were condensed and re-edited for pacing issues.

The final verdict? Kill Bill is good-not-great. I appreciate the ambition behind it, but when it comes to the mood and the tone of the piece, Tarantino is shooting for something that I simply can’t grasp. I can appreciate Bill on a visceral level to be sure, but when it comes to being “moved” by a piece of art, well, it just doesn’t come close.

Death Proof (2007)

Overall, I think that Death Proof was a welcomed and impressive return to form after the mildly sour taste left over from Bill. As Tarantino’s most overt homage to “grindhouse cinema,” it’s almost comically absurd (or absurdly comical…?) and a unique ride for mainstream audiences. The premise is deliciously dark and twisted: a stuntman murders girls by engaging in high-speed car wrecks using his “death proof” vehicle.

“Stuntman Mike,” as our villain is known, is played by Kurt Russell, who in my opinion ought to have been in a Tarantino flick long before 2007. Interestingly enough, Russell was not Tarantino’s first choice for the role. According to Wikipedia, John Travolta, Kal Penn, Ron Perlman, Mickey Rourke, Willem Dafoe, John Malkovich, Sylvester Stallone, and Bruce Willis were all contacted to play Stuntman Mike but were unavailable. As it is I think Russell was perfect for the part…but can you imagine some of these other guys….? Kal Penn gets a big fat NO from me; Rourke and Perlman are both ugly, grisly looking motherfuckers that would work but I can’t really attach a personality to either of them; Travolta is easy to see as deranged and murderous (Broken Arrow, Swordfish) but I’m not sure he has the weathered look necessary for a killer stuntman; Malkovich falls in a similar boat…I can definitely see his crazy side (Con Air) but I don’t where he’s going to get that mean, hardened look from; Willis isn’t an obvious choice though I think being a total nut actually work for him…like a wise-cracking John McClane, only a killer (“Yippie kay-aye motherfucker!” would make a great villainous catchphrase!)…; Stallone is just too much of a hero to do it…he could probably pull off the look, but can he pull off crazy? I don’t know; finally, Dafoe might be my favorite candidate of those mentioned…he’s got a unique worn and wizened look about him and there’s definitely a hint of wild in his eyes…wouldn’t it be great to see him as Tarantino’s unconventional conventional slasher villain…?

Ok ok, back to Death Proof… As I was saying, Russell is perfect as Stuntman Mike. He’s like an unhinged, completely detached Snake Plissken who just don’t give a damn about anything anymore. The first half is like an excellent little horror short. Not only is the concept cool, but the actual crash is amazing as well. I especially enjoy how the camera comes back to the carnage 4 times so that we see exactly what happens to each of the girls in slow-motion. I won’t spoil it, but these are some gruesome deaths that are bound to change your opinion of car accidents.

Unfortunately, the hunter becomes the hunted in the second half and the whole scenario sucks some of the magic (and most of the horror) out of the piece. That’s not to say it’s bad or unenjoyable, it just isn’t the right follow-up to the first half. I’ll cut it short here for those who haven’t seen it yet.

By the way, although I’d normally recommend extended cuts of films when available (at least 95% of the time), Death Proof is a film that benefits from a shorter running time, “trimmed of all the fat,” as Tarantino himself put it. The shorter version is the Grindhouse version that was released as a double feature with Rodriguez’s Planet Terror. The standalone Death Proof features several scenes added back in by Tarantino, totally 27 minutes of footage. I prefer the leaner version – all the awesome bits are still intact – precisely because all the superfluous stuff is culled and what’s left can stand taller as a horror movie.

Inglourious Basterds (2009)

Will Tarantino ever top Pulp Fiction in the eyes of the public? I don’t know. It was such a special confluence of factors…the time period, the rich state of cinema at the time, Tarantino’s own freshness…I have a feeling that Fiction will remain his magnum opus, though I don’t completely discount the possibility that he may make another film after enough years have passed that could possibly oust Fiction as his best. At this point in time, I’d say that Basterds come closest to being this film.

Apparently he’d been working on the script for several years; despite this, it feels very fresh and new in terms of Tarantino’s past work. Without hesitation I would consider Basterds my favorite of his post 2000’s films. It’s almost as if he started from scratch: a new cast (introducing America to Christoph Waltz), a new concept (an alternate, fictitious version of history), and a new method of storytelling.

Inglourious Basterds aims to tell us the “real story” behind the events regarding Germany’s surrender at the end of World War II and Hitlers’s disappearance. All too often directors make the mistake of creating stuffy, rigid settings when they attempt period pieces, but here, Tarantino has given it a contemporary sensibility. Yeah, we’re firmly entrenched in WWII and that’s cool, yet we’re not constantly reminded that it’s the 1940’s, which is even cooler. For the most part Tarantino uses our deeply ingrained, cultural, knee-jerk hate reaction to Nazis to propel the film while also giving it a largely humorous spin courtesy of Brad Pitt’s character, Aldo Raine. “Killen Nat-zees,” as Raine puts it, is funny, but it also lets us, as the viewer, assume a sort of moral high ground while watching Basterds, which in turn helps to validate some of the film’s violence. Was Tarantino’s subversion deliberate or was it simply a result of the film he wanted to make? I’m not sure, but just like movies like The Passion of the Christ have made gore and bloodshed easier to stomach since it “serves a purpose,” he manages to attract a wider audience while maintaining high levels of violence, because of course it’s ok to “keel Nat-zees.”

Basterds is somewhat episodic in structure but it’s also more evenly paced than a lot of Tarantino’s work. He channels his ability to generate witty dialog in new and amazing ways this time around; almost everything that comes out of Raine’s mouth is gold, the Hitler look alike – Martin Wuttke – is intentionally unintentionally buffoonish, and nearly everyone in the cast gets in a jibe somewhere in the flick. The true gravitas of the film falls to Laurent, who plays Shoshanna. She’s a lot like other women in Tarantino movies in that she’s dangerous and a force to be reckoned with, but she’s also unlike those women because she exudes very human amounts of fear and vulnerability, traits that Tarantino’s “superwomen” tend to skip over.

But anyone who’s seen Basterds knows that the real standout is the film’s villain Col. Landa, portrayed excellently by Christoph Waltz, who at the time was a new face to American audiences. From the opening moments on the farm, it’s obvious that this guy is not only extremely talented, but has also taken the role of “German SS officer” and completely ran with it. He is amusing, congenial, and charming, but also calculating, methodical, and dangerous. I imagine this to be pretty close to the sort of “evil” that was the Third Reich…it wasn’t a big snarling beast that popped out to scare everyone…it starts off as something noble, with a noble vision, who’s price becomes higher and higher, and eventually, no price is too high to pay for some abstracted notion of perfection. Anyway, Waltz is a true scene-stealer, and evil hasn’t been this much fun to watch since, well, Mickey Knox (though Mickey is arguably more of an anti-hero than outright villain).

At his best, Tarantino expertly strings together moment after moment. Basterds is somewhat unique in that it functions as a whole and as yet another series of these crafty moments. Some of my favorites include the moronic, almost absurd laughing of the SS High Command during the Pvt. Zoller’s film, Landa’s giddiness during his surrender to the winning team, Landa’s otherworldly laugh as Hammersmark, Raine, and his men attempt to maintain cover at the premiere, Shoshanna’s maniacal laugh as her face is projected against the smoke, “Say goodbye to your Nazi balls,” and Sam Jackson’s narration of the story of Hugo Stiglitz.

Inglourious Basterds is a bit of stretch from Tarantino’s earlier, more existential works, but hey, all artists grow and change, and he wouldn’t be much of an asset to the film community if he simply cranked out “Pulp Fiction V.” Although it maintains certain breaks from convention as well as above average levels of violence, Basterds is a film that pretty much any movie-lover should be able to enjoy; accessibility seems to be an ongoing goal of Tarantino’s, especially judging from the box office earnings of this and the next film…

Django Unchained (2012)

It’s been 20 years since Tarantino’s career as a director achieved liftoff; in that time he’s paid his respects to 70s heist and caper films, blaxploitation, grindhouse cinema, rape-and-revenge, horror, kung fu, and even a World War II period piece. What’s next? Easy, the spaghetti western. Except of course we’re talking about Tarantino, and he’s not content to simply imitate a single style – not without somehow subverting it or fusing it with something else. And so a novel concept – “the Southern” (as opposed to “the Western”) – was born. It actually sounds like a pretty good idea…take all that lawlessness from the Old West, and drop it right in the middle of the Antebellum South, a world nearly at its breaking point on the issue of slavery.

I like Django well enough. As a film it has a very metered and well-paced flow, it’s got a host of memorable characters, and it features one of the most amazingly ridiculous shoot-outs of all time. But remember earlier when I said I didn’t always understand Tarantino’s casting choices? Well, Jamie Foxx as Django is another such occasion. I really, really wish it’d been almost anyone except for Foxx, preferably a relative unknown to “ooh” and “ahh” over. Foxx ends up playing Django so stoic and inanimately, and while I could understand this behavior “in public,” I really wanted to see him let his guard down a little around his benefactor (Waltz again, appearing as Dr. King Schultz) or at the very least around his woman (Broomhilda, played by an equally expressionless Kerry Washington). The overall effect is that I never really become emotionally invested in Django, despite how much I may want to, and I’m stuck wondering if he’s emotionally stunted, too damaged to be any good, completely consumed by thoughts of hate and revenge, or just plain dumb. By my count, he shows but a single instance of tenderness, as he thoughtfully bids farewell to a fallen friend near the end.

Foxx aside, the remainder of Django is quite a pleasure to watch. I was glad to see Waltz return for a second film, this time playing a warm, father-figure sort of individual, scrupulous and with a clear since of right versus wrong. It’s almost a complete 180 from the cunning opportunist of Landa in Basterds, further proof that this guy needs to be in more movies!

It takes a while before we get to the third leg of the tripod, but when we do, we get another Tarantino-sized surprise! Here I thought DiCaprio would be Nolan’s exclusive A-lister for the forseeable future, when lo and behold he pops up as the charming yet sinister plantation owner, Calvin Candie. Watching DiCaprio prattle on in his lazy Southern accent is a lot of fun, especially as it becomes apparent that he is not to be taken for a fool. I tend not to fully peg him as a villain – he is merely a product of his times.

I also want to quickly touch on Jackson’s role as “the house nigger.” Normally the guy is flawless, and he and Tarantino especially seem to have a sort of infallible chemistry when it comes to Jackson’s acting and Tarantino’s writing, but I found him almost unwatchable throughout the film. Maybe he’s just too good at portraying “the house nigger,” but the role grates on me at every opportunity. I wish Tarantino had scaled back his character a bit though, because he does have some funny lines, born both of ignorance and his loyalty to Calvin. A couple of standout moments are when Schultz mentions a nickname having “panache” (defined by Google as “flamboyant confidence of style or manner”) and Stephen (Jackson’s character) admitting that the name does have “pan ass.” There’s also a great moment where he shouts, “Calvin!!!” but to go into any more detail would potentially spoil an important plot point.

All in all Django has a story to tell and it tells it well, and I won’t bother getting into too many of the particulars. It’s much less quirky than the Tarantino of old, and I’d probably peg it as his most conventional work to date. I suppose it’s no wonder that it’s also his highest grossing film to date. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss some of he “oddness” of his earlier endeavors.

The Hateful Eight (2015)

Somehow or another this film slipped completely past my radar until I saw the Blu-Ray/DVD ads at Wal-mart one day. It wasn’t long before I snatched it up and I must say, it’s certainly a shift from the the bombastic productions of Django, Basterds, or even Bill, though the decision to craft a dialog-heavy piece in a single setting is intriguing.

Eight is a tough film to describe, and even if I did, I’m not sure how much sense it would make without seeing it. The script began as a sequel to Django, following Django’s bounty hunting exploits. Regardless, and even without a clear analog to Django, it’s easy to see it as a spiritual successor. We’re still entrenched in the “Southern” genre, but this time we’re a few years on the other side of the Civil War. Racial tensions still run high, but everything is all nice and legal now, and older Civil War vets roam the frontier. Some of “the eight” are more important than others (we also have a couple of characters on the periphery), but the main points of interest are Sam Jackson as Maj. Warren, Kurt Russell as Jon Ruth / “The Hangman,” Jennifer Jason Leigh as Daisy Domergue, and Walter Goggins as Sheriff Mannix.

Eight is really made up of a bunch of clever sequences of dialog punctuated by action to move the story forward. These characters are all stuck in a one room cabin for the duration of a snowstorm lasting 2 or 3 days. We learn more about these folks as the conversation flows, nearly all of whom possess questionably violent pasts while the rest remain a total mystery. We’ve got a Union vet, a Confederate vet, a Lost-Causer, a gang leader, and a bounty hunter just to name a few. Since this flick is so new and since it saw such a short and limited theatrical run, I really don’t want to give too much of it away. I will say that if you enjoy the conversational parts of Tarantino’s films, particularly those from the ’90s, this could be right up your alley. It’s not a total throwback, though it does reintegrate a lot of what made Tarantino “Tarantino.”

I’m not sure if Eight is the best possible version of itself or not, but I do know that it would fall completely flat without such a stellar cast. There are a couple of unknowns who could probably be interchanged with damn near anyone, but there are also a lot of familiar faces, some of which I feel are underused. For instance we’ve got Tim Roth and Michael Madsen sharing the screen for the first time in 23 years (Mr. Orange and Mr. Blonde from Dogs, respectively), the always entertaining Sam Jackson, Kurt Russell’s sophomore outing with Tarantino, and a surprisingly convincing performance from Tarantino newcomer Jennifer Jason Leigh.

However, the breakout role goes to Goggins as Sheriff Mannix; you may remember him from FX’s Justified as well as the tranny (“Venus”) from later episodes of Sons of Anarchy. He’s also had bit parts and supporting roles in a host of other films, though after watching Eight it’s clear that he’s been under-utilized. (He even had a small role in Django as Billy Crash.) At any rate, he’s the perfect foil for Jackson’s character in this film and his comedic timing and intonation are enough to make you laugh out loud. Ultimately he plays one of the more important characters in the film, and I wouldn’t mind seeing what else he’s capable of in some of Tarantino’s flicks down the line.

I’m not sure if The Hateful Eight is a movie for everyone, though in some ways I count that as a compliment. I don’t know if Tarantino has naturally gravitated more towards the easily digestible or if he’s deliberately been trying to stay more inside the lines, but I enjoy seeing him revert back to something new and different, even if it isn’t quite perfect.

“The Hateful Four (and Some Change)” would probably be a more accurate title for the movie, and I do wish we’d gotten a bigger dose of some of the actors (particularly Madsen and Roth, the latter of who plays a German character and channels a bit of Waltz into his performance). I sometimes wonder if parts of the film were rushed or possibly left out, but overall I think it’s a successful piece and a nice reminder of what Tarantino is still capable of. This may not be the best place to start if you’re just venturing into Tarantino-land for the first time, however, older fans will appreciate its stylistic similarities to his films of the 90s and fans of his newer material may find it to be a good segue into his earlier, grittier, less straightforward films. Again, I wouldn’t necessarily recommend this as one’s first Tarantino film, but once you’re a couple films deep, it’s well worth watching.

Final Thoughts

At one point Tarantino seemed poised to create an interconnected universe within his films and I truly lament the fact that this never came to pass. We have several connections worth exploring and that Tarantino himself has mentioned from time to time. The most well known of these is of course the connection between Madsen’s Mr. Blonde from Dogs and Travolta’s Vincent Vega from Fiction. “Vincent Vega” is heard several times throughout Fiction, but the Mr. Blonde reference is a bit harder to catch. The whole point of Dogs and the nicknames is that none of the crooks know each other, but during a flashback with Mr. Blonde, he’s plainly referred to as “Vic Vega.” Tarantino had plans for a film starring the two brothers (obviously set in the past because…well, you know…) but unfortunately abandoned them as he felt the actors had gotten too old for the roles. I don’t entirely disagree – Travolta certainly looks older and Madsen hasn’t aged well at all – but man, a movie about and starring the Vega Brothers would’ve been pretty damn cool!

It’s also revealed that Donny Donowitz, “The Bear Jew” from Basterds is the father of Lee Donowitz, the filmmaker involved in the climax of True Romance. To my knowledge there were never any official plans to expand this connection on film, but again, it would be fun to see and I still think the idea of a shared Tarantino universe is pretty cool….sort of like Kevin Smith without all the pretentiousness.

During the same conversation where we learn Mr. Blonde’s real name, he mentions his parole officer, one “Seymour Scagnetti.” Tom Sizemore’s detective character in NBK was of course one “Jack Scagnetti.” No explicit relation is ever mentioned or implied beyond the name, though it does make me wonder. Did Tarantino just like the name? Or did he have loftier ambitions?

Michael Parks plays Texas Ranger Earl McGraw, one of the best reasons to watch those first few minutes of Dawn. Although executed shortly thereafter, his character goes on to appear in Death Proof as a suspicious investigator of the alleged “accident,” and again in the first half of Bill where he arrives on the scene of Beatrix’s wedding massacre. He also has a son, Edgar, played by his real-life son James Parks. He further extends the Tarantino-verse by appearing in the sequel to Dawn, as well as alongside his real-life and in-movie father in Death Proof and Kill Bill.

Well I think that’s it. I know that some fans would probably feel that such interconnectedness would cheapen the existing movies, but I have a feeling Tarantino (or perhaps a collaborator or two) would handle the situation with diligence and grace and crank out something worthy…possibly imperfect, but definitely worthy. I suppose new connections could always be forged…it’d be interesting to see more of Mr. White and Mr. Pink (maybe Mr. Orange…) and I would love to go on a few more adventures with Jules, Vince, and even Marsellus Wallace. Maybe we could even get a decent gang war out of Marsellus versus Ordell!Of all things, Tarantino hasn’t yet tackled a Vietnam movie, which could be the perfect vehicle for exploring 2 or 3 generations of the Donowitz’s. You could even take it backwards a generation into World War I and perhaps even make vague connections back to Eight and by extension Django. Yeah, some of these are a little crazy, but they’re fun to think about. Truthfully we probably won’t ever see anything like this happen, and maybe that’s ok, especially in our current cinematic climate of hyper-serialized superhero sagas.

Well, that’s me, Tarantino, and everything in between! Leave a comment and tell me what you think about, well, anything! Seen ’em all? Love ’em? Hate ’em? Any other flicks belonging on the periphery? Spill it!

Written by The Cubist