The Films of Quentin Tarantino - Conclusion

It’s odd – over the last few months, I watched all 13 of these movies – and other than Four Rooms, I enjoyed each and every one of them. I am more convinced than ever that Tarantino has never made a bad film as a director. On any scale, this would be considered a success. And yet, I am a touch disappointed – not in the films themselves, which were all great, but because I’m not quite sure I discovered anything new in the films. When I compare my re-ranking of Coen or Kubrick films from before a re-watch and after, I had wild swings in my thoughts on some films. Here, the movies were – well, pretty much exactly like I thought they were. There were no real discoveries here. But what was there? A hell of a lot of fun, a lot of style, a lot of great dialogue – and movies that have grown in substance over time – culminating with his latest, which of course, was the one surprise here. I still think Tarantino is a great director and writer. His style has imprinted itself on my movie DNA – because of when I came to him. And it’s a relief that I can revisit any of these films, and still have a great time. It is a great filmography – and perhaps my knowing it so well meant I couldn’t be surprised by it anymore. Perhaps my only real hot take is this – Tarantino is a better director than he is a writer.

 

Anyway, here is the re-ranking.

 

13. Four Room (1995) – No one except Robert Rodriguez seemed to completely understand the right way to approach this film – Tarantino’s segment feels like something tossed off on the fly, kind of fun, but not quite – like someone aping Tarantino the man himself. There is a reason the film is mostly forgotten these days.

 

12. From Dusk Till Dawn (1996) – A fun B-movie with a fun screenplay by Tarantino, and some great moments of writing in the first half, before director Robert Rodriguez takes over and a makes a fun B-movie in the second half. It’s not great art – but it is great trash.

 

11. True Romance (1993) – The one film with a Tarantino screenplay (so that doesn’t include Natural Born Killers, so re-written it’s not really his film at all anymore) – where the direction and screenplay seem to be working against each other. Still, there are some great moments and scenes throughout, and great performances. But director Tony Scott doesn’t seem to really get why what Tarantino does is so brilliant. A film that I can keep re-watching, and always enjoy, while never quite reconciling the differences. 

 

10. The Hateful Eight (2015) – This is the most problematic and weakest film of Tarantino’s career as a director – and yet, I have to say I still love it. It’s Tarantino lashing out at everyone who has attacked his previous films for a variety of reasons – and still wraps it all up in a fascinating, entertaining, brazen, violent package. Yes, it’s problematic – but that’s kind of the point.

 

9. Kill Bill: Volume 2 (2004) – This is Tarantino at his most self-indulgent, even more so than Volume I, as the film is almost all diversions and side trips – bookended by the Bride/Bill scenes (with one in the middle too just so you remember what the movie is about here). Still, Tarantino indulges himself better than just about anyone, so while it doesn’t have the eye-popping brilliance of the action sequences of Volume I – it replaces it with big dialogue set pieces, that as satisfying in a very different way.

 

8. Death Proof (2007) – This is the shortest movie that Tarantino has directed since Reservoir Dogs – and it is a pretty pure distillation of Tarantino’s influences, into one violent package. You still get all the dialogue you would ever want in a Tarantino film – two pretty long hangout scenes, and a breather in between the two groups of girls – and ending with one hell of a car chase. This is clearly the most underrated film Tarantino has ever directed – pure cinematic joy.

 

7. Reservoir Dogs (1992) - In many ways the simplest and most straight-forward film that Tarantino has ever directed – a brilliant strategy for a first time director working without a lot of money. Still, it is such a perfectly written and directed movie – which each of the major roles is perfectly cast. It is also endlessly re-watchable – and brilliant. Love it each and every time I watch it.

 

6. Django Unchained (2012) – Probably the film that improved the most for me on this re-watch – which is odd, because on this rewatch I also more clearly saw the flaws than the times I had previously watched it. But here, the messiness of the movie works in its favor, and the history it is addressing is messy. And Tarantino really does have a masterful touch on the tone of the movie’s violence, which is wildly all over the place, but with specific intent every time. A great truly great film – that I think is even better than before.

 

5. Kill Bill: Volume 1 (2003) – Here, Tarantino is stretching himself as a filmmaker more than any time before (and arguably since). In the last 45-minute action set pieces – really the only sequence of its kind in Tarantino’s entire filmography – he has made one of the best action sequences in film history. And yet, for all the excess, he grounds it with Uma Thurman’s great performance – and a wonderful side trip to make O-Ren into more than just the big bad guy. A brilliant genre exercise.

 

4. Once Upon a Time … in Hollywood (2019)

This is a first blush opinion here – so it may move up or down a little (up is more likely, as really, the more I think about it, these top four films could come in pretty much any order) – but I’m erring on the side of caution here putting it here. It is a big, bold film in every way – and I cannot wait to see it again (and again and again).

 

3. Jackie Brown (1997) – A perfect mixture of the styles of Tarantino and Elmore Leonard – a twisty, turn crime thriller, heavier on narrative than anything else Tarantino has ever done, but also he never lets that narrative get in the way of the characters. Also, perhaps, the most realistic emotional film Tarantino has ever made. Deserves to rank very high on any list of great Tarantino.

 

2. Pulp Fiction (1994) - Watching it again, I was struck by the mastery of tone in the film, how Tarantino is able to get different tones in each of the segments, and oftentimes within the same segment, or scene. It is an ambitious film with its mixed up timelines, brilliantly directed (I’ve come around to the side that Tarantino is a better director than writer in this rewatch) – and every roles is well cast. It is a masterpiece and one of the most influential films ever made – and deservedly so.

 

1.Inglorious Basterds (2009) – Since 2009, I have been one of the few who seem to think that Inglorious Basterds is the best film Tarantino has ever made – and re-watching all of these films only convinces me I have been right this past decade. It has some of the best set pieces of Tarantino’s career – including one of the best opening scenes in movie history – and it’s the film that fully brings Tarantino’s love of dialogue and cinema into thematic line with the rest of the film. It is a masterpiece – and it is the best film he has ever made.

Movie Review: Once Upon a Time ... in Hollywood

Once Upon a Time ... in Hollywood ***** / *****

Directed by: Quentin Tarantino.

Written by: Quentin Tarantino.

Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio (Rick Dalton), Brad Pitt (Cliff Booth), Margot Robbie (Sharon Tate), Margaret Qualley (Pussycat), Dakota Fanning (Squeaky Fromme), Al Pacino (Marvin Schwarzs), Lena Dunham (Gypsy), Timothy Olyphant (James Stacy), Sydney Sweeney (Snake), Damian Lewis (Steve McQueen), Kurt Russell (Randy), Austin Butler (Tex), Emile Hirsch (Jay Sebring), Lorenza Izzo (Francesca Capucci), Bruce Dern (George Spahn), Victoria Pedretti (Lulu), Mike Moh (Bruce Lee), Zoë Bell (Janet), James Landry Hébert (Clem), Rafal Zawierucha (Roman Polanski), Damon Herriman (Charles Manson), Luke Perry (Wayne Maunder), Maya Hawke (Flower Child), Mikey Madison (Sadie), Madisen Beaty (Katie), Nicholas Hammond (Sam Wanamaker), Samantha Robinson (Abigail Folger), Scoot McNairy (Business Bob Gilbert), Harley Quinn Smith (Froggie), Rebecca Rittenhouse (Michelle Phillips), Daniella Pick (Daphna Ben-Cobo), Costa Ronin (Voytek Frykowski).

 

Spoiler Warning: Just don’t read it if you haven’t seen it and don’t want to know.

 

We’re lucky if we get one film like Once Upon a Time in Hollywood a year. I’m not just talking about the quality of the film – although the star rating clearly lets you know that I’m in the “it’s a masterpiece” camp. I’m talking more about the fact that here we have a big budget, star studded, studio film that runs nearly three hours – almost all of which is talk – and it’s become a film that you need to see – you need to have an opinion on. And the opinions on the film run the gamut from masterpiece to trash – and everything in between. In the week since the film opened, it’s seems like there isn’t a character, a scene, a moment that hasn’t inspired some deep think pieces, and sharply divided opinions. You can love the film, hate the film – you can be extremely mixed on the film – but you cannot be indifferent to it. The discourse around the film has been inspiring – true, some of the hottest of hot takes have been asinine – but I’ve read pieces that I completely disagree with, that are brilliantly written and argued, where it’s clear the writer means what they say, and come to that opinion after deep thought. I honestly cannot remember the last time a film like this existed – and inspired this much debate. I don’t think I can add much – but I’ll sure try.

 

It is easy to say that Once Upon a Time in Hollywood is a love letter – it is, to old school Hollywood, to Sharon Tate, to an era long dead, if it ever existed in the first place. It’s also an elegy and a eulogy, a fairy tale and a revenge fantasy. It’s another of Tarantino’s revisionist histories – in line with Inglorious Basterds and Django Unchained – but goes farther than either of those films did. After all, even if Hitler didn’t die in a fiery movie theater, the history of WWII wouldn’t be that different if he had. And even if Django got his righteous revenge on a slave owner – it’s one slave owner, one plantation – it isn’t going to end slavery. But the ending of Once Upon a Time in Hollywood really does make you wonder what the past 50 years would be like had it happened this way – had Charles Manson and company been thrown in the dustbin of history, not forgotten as much as never known in the first place. Tarantino lets you know precisely what he thinks of Manson – he isn’t worth any more than a single scene where he doesn’t actually do much of anything. His family gets more attention – if not more respect. They are scuzzy and violent and pathetic – and they get what they deserve (the silliest of takes I have heard is that Tarantino is too mean to the Manson family members – given what they were about to do, I don’t share that sentiment).

 

But Once Upon a Time in Hollywood is only about Manson in a roundabout way. It’s mainly about Hollywood in 1969 – in the days where the studio system has pretty much failed, and TV has risen, and a new generation of directors are about to remake movies in their own image. What place is there for someone like Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio), once a famous TV cowboy in a 1950s show, now relegated to taking on guest roles in others shows – where is plays the heavy, so that someone newer and younger can take him down to prove how tough they are. True, an agent (Al Pacino) if offering a chance to make some movies in Italy – but who likes Spaghetti Westerns? In his real life, Dalton is a drunken, insecure mess. He cannot even drive himself anymore, since he has so many DUI’s. Luckily his old stunt double – now basically his lackey – Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt) is always around to drive him, take care of his house on Cielo Drive – right next to Roman Polanski and Sharon Tate’s house -  and basically do whatever is needed. Cliff is not that much like Rick – while Rick is insecure and weak, it’s pretty clear that Cliff can dominate in any room he wants to – it’s just a matter of whether he wants to or not. Pitt’s performance is remarkable – perhaps the best of his career. There is something knowingly phony to Pitt’s performance – to his smile here. Yes, he and Rick are best friends – and real friends. But Cliff is always aware that he isn’t Rick’s equal – that he is his employee. He may get to hang out with Rick, drive his fancy car, housesit that big house – but all Cliff has of his own is a dingy trailer behind a drive-in movie theater, and a pit bull he adores. Rick is the only one who still wants Cliff around – because, while, maybe Cliff murdered his wife. Or maybe it was an accident a la Marvin in Pulp Fiction. Or something else entirely – Tarantino makes a reference relating to Natalie Wood, which if it tells you anything it tells you we don’t really know.

 

The two best friends go on separate adventures for much of the movie. Rick gets a guest spot on the (all but forgotten) real life Western Lancer – once again playing the heavy. And while he’s as much of a drunken, insecure mess as always off camera, on camera something happens to him – that old magic comes back. Perhaps it’s talking to an incredibly smart, charming child actor (Julia Butters) – who has a long scene with Rick, and doesn’t realize just how much she gets to him – if for no other reason than because he finally realizes what the book he is reading is about. It’s a remarkable sequence. Cliff’s sequence is even better though – after his repeated car flirtations with Pussycat (Margaret Qualley – stunning and brilliant) leads him to eventually pick her up, and drive her to Spahn Ranch – where they used to shoot Westerns, but now is home to Manson and his family. “Charlie” isn’t there when he arrives – but lots of people are. And Tarantino masterfully builds the tension through this long sequence – Cliff’s long talk with Squeaky (Dakota Fanning), and eventually George Spahn himself (Bruce Dern)).

 

Through this all, Tarantino flashes to Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie) herself. Tate’s career in Hollywood was just getting off the ground when she was murdered by the Manson family in real life – and in the 50 years since then, the details of her death have overshadowed those of her life. Tarantino seeks to correct the record on that – showing Tate is a young, vibrant, fun-loving woman – partying with equally pretty people in Hollywood, and basically just being happy. He doesn’t get too much into her biographical details – her already troubled marriage to Polanski say – because that’s not relevant to what he’s doing here. In Robbie’s best sequence as Tate, she goes to see her movie The Wrecking Crew when she says it playing. The sequence sets us up to think maybe it will end in embarrassment – she has to explain to the staff who she is. But it ends up being beautiful. Tarantino – who elsewhere will recreate real movies and actors, here lets Tate’s own performance in the film play out in front of Robbie watching in the audience – and us, watching her watch herself. It is a beautiful tribute to Tate.

 

Then comes the ending. Given Inglorious Basterds and Django Unchained, you knew that Tarantino wasn’t going to play this straight. If you want to see how an alternate history of the Manson murders can go horribly, offensively awry, you can watch The Haunting of Sharon Tate from earlier this year (better yet, don’t, and just trust me). Tarantino doesn’t go that way. I have to admit I’m still mulling over the ending here – what it means, and why Tarantino decides to do what he does. But it works.

 

There is a lot more to discuss here. Is the films treatment of Bruce Lee (brilliantly played by Mike Moh) accurate, racist – somehow both? Or is it some audience reactions to its portrayal that’s racist? Why did Tarantino want to puncture some myths, and not others – Polanski is barely a character here at all, and neither is Steve McQueen – but both could have be treated a lot more mercilessly then they are here. You could – and surely someone will – have a great book of essays about just about everything in the film. What of the production design – which is great in period details, especially in recreating what 1969 looked like in the movie. Or Robert Richardson’s cinematography – which is deliberately not as show-y as most of his work with Tarantino, but is still wonderful – when he moves the camera here, you notice it more (like the wonderful shot coming around the table to DiCaprio – which reminded me a little of Joanna Hogg’s The Souvenir from earlier in the summer).

 

For now, I kind of consider this “review” to me first draft thoughts on the film. It’s been a long time – perhaps since Inglorious Basterds, but probably even longer – that Tarantino has made something quite this thorny, this tricky, this complex. Hell, it’s been a while since anyone has.

The Films of Quentin Tarantino: The Hateful Eight (2015)

The Hateful Eight (2015)

Directed by: Quentin Tarantino   

Written by: Quentin Tarantino.

Starring: Samuel L. Jackson (Major Marquis Warren), Kurt Russell (John Ruth), Jennifer Jason Leigh (Daisy Domergue), Walton Goggins (Sheriff Chris Mannix), Demián Bichir (Bob), Tim Roth (Oswaldo Mobray), Michael Madsen (Joe Gage), Bruce Dern (General Sandy Smithers), James Parks (O.B Jackson), Dana Gourrier (Minnie Mink), Zoë Bell (Six-Horse Judy), Lee Horsley (Ed), Gene Jones (Sweet Dave), Keith Jefferson (Charly), Craig Stark (Chester Charles Smithers), Belinda Owino (Gemma), Channing Tatum (Jody)

 

Watching The Hateful Eight again – for the first time since it came out in 2015 – I couldn’t help but wonder if this was Tarantino’s way of becoming an internet troll. I don’t say mean that in a bad way, because the film is still brilliantly written, directed and acted, but because I kind of think that this was Tarantino’s way of attacking back on all the things said about him. That his films are racist or misogynistic or homophobic, and instead turns it back on America itself – basically arguing (not incorrectly) that those very things are ingrained in very fabric of America. But he does it all in a way that doesn’t hold your hand in that argument – instead of just places all these, well, Hateful, people together in a room and lets them loose. If you’re uncomfortable, is that discomfort with the film, or with America? You decide.

 

On the surface level, The Hateful Eight is a Western take on one of those closed door, Agatha Christie mysteries. It is basically 9 people (poor O.B. – he isn’t hateful, but in that room, he doesn’t stand a chance) who are trapped by a snowstorm. There is a black bounty hunter and Civil War Veteran Major Marquis Warren (Samuel L. Jackson) with three dead bodies that he wants to turn in for the bounty. Another bounty hunter – John Ruth (Kurt Russell) with his latest capture – Daisy Domergue (Jennifer Jason Leigh) – also trying to make his way to town to collect the bounty. The new Sheriff of that not far off town – and the son of Marauder, those Southerners who couldn’t except the result of the war Chris Mannix (Walton Goggins) on his way to start his new job. There is Mexican Bob (Demian Bichir) – who has apparently been left in charge of Minnie’s Haberdashery with the owner away. An aging Confederate General looking for information on his dead son, Sandy Smithers (Bruce Dern). And a couple of mysterious strangers – Oswaldo Mobray (Tim Roth) – apparently a hangman and Joe Gage (Michael Madsen) – who is there for, well, who really knows. They all have secrets and ulterior motives that will only slowly be revealed – and then the bloodbath will commence.

 

The film, even more than most Tarantino films, is almost all dialogue. The film traps us with these people who should never be in the same room together in that room together, and won’t let them go. If you’re paying attention, you’ll be uncomfortable even before you get to that room. The violent way Ruth deals with Daisy – he punches her, elbows her in the face, and generally berates her with a lot of sexist language. But it’s not like Daisy is an innocent – she’s an out-and-out racist, who goes out of her way to provoke the hatred of everyone around her. Mannix is a more “respectable” racist – in that while he’s racist, he can be civil to Marquis. And you find out pretty early on just how many people Marquis has killed – and how – which doesn’t make him look good.

 

And then, for nearly three hours, Tarantino lets them bounce off each other. They argue, bicker, provoke, fight, etc. the entire time. Everyone is trying to suss out everyone else’s motives – and not getting very far. If Marquis is our hero – he’s a flawed one. He certainly has a reason to hate General Smithers – but his long, homophobic tirade just to provoke a response so that he can kill him maybe taking it too far. John Ruth – obviously styled on John Wayne – may have a reason to bring Daisy is – but that doesn’t mean he’s not a violent misogynist anyway.

 

There was a lot of debate when the film came out if it was racist, or depicted racism. If it was misogynistic or depicted misogyny. If it was homophobic, or depicted homophobia. I think, taken as a film onto itself, The Hateful Eight comes out on the right side of those issues. It makes sense that in the years after the Civil War that racism would be this open, this rampant and widespread among white people – and that most of them would use the word nigger without a second though. And, for the most part, I think Tarantino’s other movies which uses the word as frequently also make sense unto themselves. But at a certain point, I do think you have to wonder if Tarantino just likes the word, and finds “legitimate” reasons to use it in all of his movies. I’ve never bought the misogyny charges against Tarantino – and don’t here either. He has long since loved strong female characters – in every sense of the word – and while Daisy is despicable, she is that as well. And the ultimate message of the film – that’s men’s hatred of women will ultimately outweigh the racism they feel towards each other could be construed (if you’re feeling generous) as a feminist message. As for the homophobia – I think it’s valid to point out that Marquis’ rant is meant to provoke a homophobic response in Smithers – and isn’t itself homophobic. But I also think it’s fair to point out that’s it’s a fairly cheap gambit – and beneath a writer of Tarantino’s talents.

 

Ultimately, I think it’s fair to say that I have more reservations about The Hateful Eight than any other Tarantino directed film. And yet, I also have to say that the film is brilliant in many ways. The performances are all top notch – in particular Jackson, Russell and Leigh, with only one guy miscast (I won’t spoil it if you don’t know – but he’s the guy who shows up late). And it’s entertaining as hell. I think Fred Raskin does a better job editing this than he did Django Unchained. The 70MM cinematography by Robert Richardson is as good as anything he has ever done – and the great Ennio Morricone deserved the Best Score Oscar he won for his work here, even if it doesn’t seem like he particularly likes Tarantino. It says something that even if this is perhaps the weakest feature of Tarantino’s career – it’s still pretty damn great.

The Films of Quentin Tarantino: Django Unchained (2012)

Django Unchained (2012)

Directed by: Quentin Tarantino.

Written by: Quentin Tarantino.

Starring: Jamie Foxx (Django), Christoph Waltz (Dr. King Schultz), Leonardo DiCaprio (Calvin Candie), Kerry Washington (Broomhilda), Samuel L. Jackson (Stephen), Walton Goggins (Billy Crash), Dennis Christopher (Leonide Moguy), James Remar (Butch Pooch / Ace Speck), David Steen (Mr. Stonesipher), Dana Michelle Gourrier (Cora), Nichole Galicia (Sheba), Laura Cayouette (Lara Lee Candie-Fitzwilly), Ato Essandoh (D'Artagnan), Don Johnson (Big Daddy), Franco Nero (Bar Patron), James Russo (Dicky Speck), Bruce Dern (Old Man Carrucan), Jonah Hill (Bag Head #2).

 

It is fair to question whether Quentin Tarantino should have made Django Unchained – if a white filmmaker at all should be making a film about slavery, particularly one that turns slavery in a blood splattered revenge film – which almost literally ends with people winking at the camera. The film came out the same year as Steven Spielberg’s Lincoln – another film about slavery, but one that avoided the pain of slavery, to concentrate on what Lincoln – and his allies – had to do to pass the 13^th Amendment, and the year before Steve McQueen’s 12 Years a Slave, which took us to those plantations, and focused on the horrific toll on the human bodies of the slaves themselves. Both films are undeniable respectful – in a way that Tarantino’s film very definitely is not. And yet – I think Tarantino’s film gets to something more elemental and basic about slavery that I’m not sure I’ve quite seen before. In an era where America is still debating whether or not they should keep statues of Confederate Heroes up in Southern States, and many people try and argue, ridiculously, that slavery was not about race, but was purely economic – yes, it was wrong, but not all slave owners were racist monsters, were they? Tarantino’s film, if nothing else, lays bare that lie. Every white person save one in Django Unchained is an unrepentant racist – someone who spouts out the most hateful rhetoric imaginable, who looks at black people as subhuman. The one exception of course isn’t even American.

 

The title character in the film is Django (Jamie Foxx) – a slave, who we first see as he is being led through a dark forest, with other slaves, when a man in a wagon comes along. This is Dr. King Schultz (Christoph Waltz) – a German dentist turned bounty hunter. He needs Django because he can help him find his latest fugitives. The negotiations as they are wont to do in a Tarantino film go on for a long time, but only end in bloody, brutal violence. King Schultz gets his man – and makes him a deal. If he will help him, when it’s all over, Django can go free. Of course, all Django wants is to find his wife Broomhilda (Kerry Washington) – now a slave at Candyland, owned by Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio). And King Schultz will, of course, help with that as well.

 

Even more than most Tarantino films, Django Unchained has a strange mixture of tones. It can be out and out comedic at times, where Tarantino is playing things for a laugh, and then at other moments, he is hitting you hard. The violence in the film is strong and persistent – and yet, there is different types of violence here. There are moments where the violence is over-the-top – people being blown up with dynamite for instance, and the bloody massacres at the end. And there are times when it is not over the top at all – D’Artagnan and the dogs for instance, or the fights Calvin forces his slaves to have against each other. The violence in those sequences is almost sickening – Tarantino is not making light of that violence at all. It is appropriately brutal.

 

As with all of Tarantino films as well, he takes his time here. The film runs two hours and forty minutes, and it’s well over an hour before we even get to the main conflict of the film – before we’re even introduced to the main villain – DiCaprio’s Calvin Candie. Until then, we get a lot of Django and Schultz together being bounty hunters – including a montage set in the snow (I always love snow Westerns – and think we never got enough of them). Tarantino allows his character’s time and space to breath – to talk, to reveal themselves. They are not terribly complex characters – but they are acted with great zeal by the entire cast. I’ve always found it odd that Waltz was the one singled out for awards recognition – he is great sure, but ‘s almost a co-lead (it would be, but he leaves the film perhaps a shade too early for that). And the film also contains DiCaprio going wildly, wonderfully over-the-top, playing easily the most contemptable character of his career – and loving every second of it. He isn’t a fun villain per se – he is evil and vile and racist – but DiCaprio knows that Calvin Candie would love being Calvin Candie, and shows that. The most complex character in the film is Samuel L. Jackson as Stephen – the top slave at Candyland, and the one most invested in seeing things stay just as they are. It’s the second best performance Jackson has ever given for Tarantino – right after Pulp Fiction.

 

I don’t think Django Unchained is a perfect film – it is certainly a messy one. It is the first Tarantino film not edited by the great Sally Menke, who tragically died far too young, and there are moments where she is missed. It may be very funny to have the scene with the Klan members debating the hole placements on their masks – but the scene feels awkwardly spliced into the film – like an outtake or a Key & Peele skit inserted into the rest of the movie. And Tarantino, who has always been interested in complex, strong female characters (you are free to hate those characters, or his writing of them – but to say he doesn’t care about them is absurd) here fails Kerry Washington and Broomhilda, who is the least interesting character in the film, not really given any depth at all.

 

And yet, it’s messiness somehow works in Django Unchained’s favor. Tarantino here is tackling slavery and racism at the heart of American history, and he is lashing out in more than a few different directions. It is a messy film, but it’s a messy issue. Re-watching the film, I think I noticed the mess more this time than ever before – but also noticed just how hard Tarantino is hitting here – how much he wants to show the lie at the heart of the slavery – which makes it a stronger film than I remembered as well. This film damn well should be messy.

The Films of Quentin Tarantino: Inglorious Basterds (2009)

Inglorious Basterds (2009)

Directed By: Quentin Tarantino.

Written By: Quentin Tarantino.

Starring: Brad Pitt (Lt. Aldo Raine), Christoph Waltz (Col. Hans Landa), Mélanie Laurent (Shosanna Dreyfus), Michael Fassbender (Lt. Archie Hicox), Diane Kruger (Bridget von Hammersmark), Daniel Brühl (Fredrick Zoller), Eli Roth (Sgt. Donny Donowitz),Til Schweiger (Sgt. Hugo Stiglitz), Gedeon Burkhard (Cpl. Wilhelm Wicki), Jacky Ido (Marcel), B.J. Novak (Pfc. Smithson Utivich), Omar Doom (Pfc. Omar Ulmer), August Diehl (Major Dieter Hellstrom), Denis Menochet (Perrier LaPadite), Sylvester Groth (Joseph Goebbels), Martin Wuttke (Adolf Hitler), Mike Myers (General Ed Fenech), Julie Dreyfus (Francesca Mondino), Richard Sammel (Sgt. Werner Rachtman), Alexander Fehling (Master Sgt. Wilhelm / Pola Negri), Rod Taylor (Winston Churchill), Soenke Möhring (Pvt. Butz / Walter Frazer), Samm Levine (PFC Gerold Hirschberg), Paul Rust (PFC Andy Kagan), Michael Bacall (PFC Michael Zimmerman), Hilmar Eichhorn (Emil Jannings).

 

Looking back, it’s become clear that Inglorious Basterds represented somewhat of a change for Tarantino. Up until now, his films were all contemporary, and divorced from history – except movie history of course, as he made his violent genre films without much thought to the wider world. Those films are all great (as this series has shown) – but they were movie movies if that makes sense. With Inglorious Basterds, he took a step back – and tried to integrate his style and his worldview with history – and started addressing the outside world, while still making precisely the films he always has. Inglorious Basterds is the film – better than any other – who fully integrates his love of language and cinema into thematic content – both of them used as weapons in an alternate history of WWII – one in which Jews get the vengeance on the Nazis they always wanted. You could argue, of course, that this isn’t really Tarantino’s place – or that by ignoring concentration camps and not mentioning the Holocaust he isn’t telling the whole story – but that wasn’t really Tarantino’s aim here. Much like Mel Brooks with The Producers – he knows bringing that aspect of WWII in wouldn’t fit with the rest of his vision. I have long since been of the opinion that Inglorious Basterds is Tarantino’s best film – the masterpiece he should be remembered for, and while I know that it’s a minority opinion, this most recent viewing only strengthened my resolve that I am correct.

 

The film is told in five chapters – the first three whizzing by at about 20 minutes a piece, and the last two taking their time, running 45 minutes a piece. The first is one of the best scenes that Tarantino has ever written and directed – an intense set piece that would have made Hitchcock proud. Hans Landa (Christoph Waltz) – a SS officer known as the Jew Hunter – arrives at a French farm in the countryside, to question Perrier LaPadite (Denis Menochet) – a dairy farmer – about what he knows about the missing Jewish family from the area. They switch back and forth in language – from German to French to English, and back again, as Landa – with an ever creepy smile plastered on his face – questions LaPadite, always with the friendliest tone of voice, although his intent is never not clear. He knows LaPadite is hiding the family – and he’s going to find them – the reveal of the family under the floorboards is perhaps the finest directorial moment in Tarantino’s career. He takes his time here – the whole sequence runs just over 20 minutes, and it’s almost all talk as Landa toys with him – right up until the gruesome finale – it’s there we meet Shosanna (Melanie Laurent) – who will become such an important character in later chapters.

 

The second chapter introduces the Basterds themselves. Led by Aldo Raine (Brad Pitt) – who is part Apache, the rest of the Basterds are American born Jews, placed behind enemy lines, with the express purpose of killing all the Nazis they can (they do have an Austrian Jew as well as a German, who killed a lot of Nazis, before being captured as well). This sequence ratchets up the humor at the start – Pitt’s clipped delivery as he gives his Dirty Dozen speech to the men, before getting into the field – and showing just what these men are capable of.

 

The third chapter is set in Paris, and focuses on Shosanna – know living as a gentile under an assumed name, and running a movie theater. A German war hero and movie lover – Zoller (Daniel Brühl), takes a shine to her. He’s just starred in a propaganda movie – and they are having a big premiere later – perhaps at her theater. More than the other two, there is more plot here – more scene setting – although it ends with a lengthy, intense sequence at a restaurant between Shosanna and Landa – she knows who he is, he doesn’t know who she is.

 

The fourth chapter is one the longest – and again, is a brilliant stretched out set piece, mostly in a small French bar, where Archie Hilcox (Michael Fassbender), a Brit, is to team up with the Basterds to meet their inside man – German film star Bridget von Hammersmark (Diane Kruger) – who will get them into the premiere of that propaganda movie – where all the bigs in the Nazi ranks will be. What they don’t know is that there are other Germans there – a group of drunken grunts, celebrating the birth of one of their children – and an officer, sitting quietly in the corner, who will come out and start a “friendly” conversation – leading to, of course, violence – putting the entire plan at risk. The last chapter, of course, brings all of these people together at that movie premiere – with violent, bloody, fiery results.

 

What all of these sequences have in common is Tarantino’s love of language. He has always had lengthy dialogue scenes in his movies – scenes that go on a lot longer than anyone else would dare, that really get you to know the characters as more than just pawns in the plot. Here, though, he does himself one better. The dialogue here becomes the plot – becomes the driving force behind everything. Every line of dialogue takes on multiple meanings – what is being said, and what isn’t being said. How the characters say what they say, and what it means is layered, and deeper. People are not always telling the truth, they are often playing roles, etc. The dialogue in multiple different languages, is as good as anything Tarantino has ever written – but it takes on meaning beyond luxuriating in the joy of dialogue.

 

This is also true of the way he integrates cinema in the proceedings – the way Zoller and Shosanna talk about it in those early scenes, talking about Riefenstahl and Pabst – the way Archie is a film critic, and points out the difference between 1920s German cinema, and what is going on now. The way that Shosanna will literally use cinema as a weapon in the final act. Tarantino is as in love with cinema’s history as ever before – he got the film’s title from another movie after all, you can see films like The Dirty Dozen throughout. He throws in Emil Jannings – the first ever winner of the Best Actor Oscar, who returned to Germany when talkies came in, and his thick German accent killed his Hollywood career – and then became a Nazi himself. Tarantino understands the power of movies – and has never better expressed it than he does here.

 

Tarantino has never been a modest filmmaker – he is convinced of his own talent, and has an ego of somehow who believes it. Still, he takes it to another level when he ends the film with the line “I think this might be my masterpiece”. In any other hands, this would be self-indulgent in the extreme, and annoying. Here though, it’s true. As the old saying goes – it ain’t bragging if you can do it. In Inglorious Basterds, Tarantino does it.

The Films of Quentin Tarantino: Death Proof (2007)

Death Proof (2007) 

Directed by: Quentin Tarantino.

Written by: Quentin Tarantino.

Starring: Kurt Russell (Stuntman Mike), Zoë Bell (Zoë Bell), Rosario Dawson (Abernathy), Vanessa Ferlito (Arlene), Sydney Tamiia Poitier (Jungle Julia), Tracie Thoms (Kim), Rose McGowan (Pam), Jordan Ladd (Shanna), Mary Elizabeth Winstead (Lee), Quentin Tarantino (Warren), Marcy Harriell (Marcy), Eli Roth (Dov), Omar Doom (Nate), Michael Bacall (Omar), Monica Staggs (Lanna Frank), Jonathan Loughran (Jasper), Marta Mendoza (Punky Bruiser), Tim Murphy (Tim the Bartender), Melissa Arcaro (Venus Envy), Michael Parks (Earl McGraw), James Parks (Edgar McGraw), Marley Shelton (Dr. Dakota Block – McGraw), Nicky Katt (Counter Guy), Electra Avellan (Babysitter Twin #1), Elise Avellan (Babysitter Twin #2), Helen Kim (Peg), Tina Rodriguez (Juana).

 

Death Proof will always be the red headed step child of Tarantino directed features – even Quentin himself has been fairly dismissive of it. And yet, despite, or perhaps because, it’s the only one of his features that feels kind of tossed together, the film is still quite remarkable and singular. The only miscalculation made here was in thinking that people would want to sit through more than three hours of Grindhouse – a pared down version of this film, preceded by a pared down version of Robert Rodriguez’s Planet Terror (fun, but nowhere near as good) with some cheesy trailers for non-existent movies thrown in. Grindhouse became the biggest money loser of Tarantino’s career. But as a singular film – now restored to nearly two hours instead of 80 minutes – Death Proof is great.

 

Death Proof is, like all Tarantino films this time just more baldly, a throwback to the films that Tarantino loved as a teenager – in particular, car movies (he references Vanishing Point and Dirty Mary Crazy Larry throughout), and is a film basically sawed down the middle, both halves about a crazed killer – Stuntman Mike (Kurt Russell) terrorizing a group of attractive young women with his car – outfitted to make it Death Proof for the driver. In the first half, of course, he gets the best of the women. In the second, boy does he not.

 

As with all Tarantino films, he takes his time here – having dialogue scene after dialogue scene that in most movies would be pointless and drag the movie to a halt, but here, is half the fun. First, we meet a trio of girls – DJ Jungle Julia (Sydney Poitier) and her two friends, Arlene aka Butterfly (Vanessa Ferlito) and Shanna (Jordan Ladd) – out for a night on the town in a dive bar in Austin, before heading to a cabin. They drink and laugh and joke – men show up, the flirt, they do a little bit more than flirt, etc. There are also two people at the bar – Pam (Rose McGowan) who is going to need a ride home, and went to school with Jungle Julia and isn’t a fan, and Stuntman Mike himself – a few decades older than the girls, but still flirting with them – in a way that is extremely creepy, but they pass it off as an old man getting his jollies.

 

Tarantino takes his time with these opening scenes. Yes, his victims are all beautiful young women – there is even a lap dance sequence (although even in this “full” version part of it is missing) – but he doesn’t just make them gratuitous T&A lined up for slaughter – they are real people, or at least as real as the genre allows. He resets halfway through – a long dialogue sequence between two favorites of his (Michael and James Parks), cops who are suspicious of the “accident” acting as a buffer, before moving to Tennessee, and starting again. This time, it’s four women on a movie set – stuntwomen Kim and Zoe (Tracie Thoms and Zoe Bell – playing herself), makeup person Abernathy (Rosario Dawson) and actress Lee (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) – in a cheerleader outfit. Again, though, while Tarantino sets them up at first to be the kind of beautiful young women victims we are used to seeing, he makes them into full characters. And when Stuntman Mike puts them in his sites, he has no idea that Kim is a better driver then he is, and all of them are tougher.

 

The 20 plus minute car chase that ends Death Proof is amazing – really, one of the best car chases in film history. Like the extended carnage at the end of Kill Bill Volume I, here Tarantino is both teaching himself something new, and nailing it on his first try. It’s visceral and exiting – and of course, done with practical effects and stunts. It stood as the best of its kind this century until Mad Max Fury Road came along.

 

All of this is, of course, filtered through the films Tarantino loved in the past. The look of the film has been beat up a little – as if it’s an old print of a movie that has been watched countless times. There are blips and jumps, and a scene or two missing (this is how Tarantino cut the film down to fit in Grindhouse – most of that has been restored, other than the lap dance – and even that still works as is, as Tarantino is titillating you, and then cutting away, making you think for a second about what you were watching).

 

As part of Grindhouse, the movie worked. It was fun and entertaining, and even if it felt completely tossed off by Tarantino, still recognizably his. His approach differed from Rodriguez’s – whose Planet Terror felt like he was trying to recreate those films, whereas Death Proof felt like Tarantino filtering them through his own brain. As a standalone film though, the film is remarkable – and every bit as worthy of praise and attention as anything Tarantino has done. It is a more pure version of the films Tarantino always makes – boiled down to its essentials, and wrapped in an entertaining, visceral, violent package.

The Films of Quentin Tarantino: KIll Bill Volume II (2004)

Kill Bill: Vol. 2 (2004) 

Directed by: Quentin Tarantino.

Written by: Quentin Tarantino and Uma Thurman (Character)

Starring: Uma Thurman (The Bride / Beatrix Kiddo), David Carradine (Bill), Michael Madsen (Budd), Daryl Hannah (Elle Driver), Julie Dreyfus (Sofie Fatale), Sonny Chiba (Hattori Hanzo), Gordon Liu (Pai Mei), Bo Svenson (Reverend Harmony), Jeannie Epper (Mrs. Harmony), Chris Nelson (Tommy Plympton), Samuel L. Jackson (Rufus), Larry Bishop (Larry Gomez), Sid Haig (Jay), Michael Parks (Esteban Vihaio), Perla Haney-Jardine (B.B.), Helen Kim (Karen), Lucy Liu (O-Ren Ishii), Vivica A. Fox (Vernita Green),

 

Back in 2004, I was one of those people who thought that Kill Bill Volume 2 was better than Volume 1. It was and is a more typical Tarantino film than Volume 1 – with a lot more dialogue, a lot more digressions and side roads that it goes down, and it was a more emotional film – instead of just the pure rage of Volume 1, there are more layers to the emotions in Volume 2. Over the years, I changed my mind – Volume 1 is clearly the better film – and watching Volume 2 again, a few days after Volume 1, I wonder why I ever thought it was better. Don’t get me wrong – Volume 2 is still a great film, wonderfully staged and acted, and written and directed by Tarantino. And yet, it is a less focused film than Volume 1. It’s fun to go down all the side roads that Tarantino takes us down in the film – but watching it this time, I kind of realized that it’s almost entirely side roads.

 

The heart of the movie is really the first scene and the last scene in the film. The first sequence takes us back to that wedding chapel right before the massacre happened – that left everyone but The Bride (Uma Thurman) dead – but her in a coma. We first see her, her fiancé and her friends taking to the minister and his wife (and a cameo by a Tarantino favorite as the piano player) – but the heart of it is a long conversation between The Bridge and Bill (David Carradine) – who we see for the first real time here. It’s a great scene, as these two people who clearly love each other, but are no longer together, reminiscence about old times. Tarantino doesn’t portray the massacre itself – he pulls back to show the assassins entering, and the screams, but the event itself isn’t depicted. The final scene – which really goes on for about 30 minutes – is the long conversation, and eventual confrontation between The Bride and Bill that the whole two movies has been building towards. Once again, it is a great sequence – with Thurman at her best, and David Carradine showing perhaps what he could have done had he been given more chances in his career. This really is the film that will be his legacy – one that references his other major role, in Kung Fu (and for 1990s kids like me, Kung Fu: The Legend Continues, which I’m not embarrassed to say, I may have seen every episode of). It plays with that image, but of course makes it darker – showing us what may happen is Kwai Chang Caine went bad. For good measure, Tarantino gives the pair another scene at the halfway point – a flashback sequence, which shows just how in awe The Bride once was of Bill.

 

The rest of the film really is a lot of side roads and diversions from the heart of the film – which is The Bride and Bill. Of course, The Bride still has to deal with Budd (Michael Madsen) and Elle Driver (Darryl Hannah) – the other two assassins who were there that day. Tarantino is clearly a writer who falls in love with his characters, and likes to take time to explore them a little. If O-Ren got that treatment in Volume 1, its Michael Madsen’s Budd who gets it in Volume II. There a brief scene between Budd and Bill, where we find out that they are brothers, before we get a long sequence of Budd, to show how far he has fallen. He lives in a trailer in the desert and now works as a bouncer at a very low rent strip club. The lengthy sequence at that club is almost a sad little movie onto itself – as Madsen is stripped down and humiliated by his boss (played by Larry Gomez), and he just takes it. It’s a great little performance by Madsen. All of this leads to The Bride storming his trailer – and not being prepared for what she finds.

 

We then get another digression – the training sequence of The Bride studying under the great kung fu master Pai Mei (Gordon Liu, playing a different role here than in Volume I). The whole sequence is pure B-movie bliss, with Tarantino indulging himself, allowing himself to do whatever he loved in those old Kung Fu movies. The major fight sequence in the film is between Elle and The Bride – back at Budd’s trailer (poor Budd gets a fittingly pathetic end) – and this is the sequence that Tarantino allows himself to go completely over the top, into an almost goofy fight sequence that makes sense given the Pai Mei sequence.

 

And yet, we’re still not ready to get to Bill. Tarantino allows himself too more diversions – a long conversation between The Bride and Bill’s Mexican father figure (Michael Parks, again, playing a different character than in Volume I), and then a flashback sequence in a hotel room when The Bride out she is pregnant – and convinces a hired killer sent to get rid of her, to her live.

 

In any other hands, Kill Bill Volume II would be dismissed as almost masturbatory self-indulgence by the director. Watching the two films within days of each other, you can easily see how Tarantino could have edits what turns out to be just over four hours of movie, into a leaner, meaner revenge movie about half that length. And yet, with Tarantino, it is that self-indulgence that makes the film work. Tarantino loves the side roads almost more than the main thrust of the plot. He doesn’t want the people the Bride kills to be faceless villains – he wants you to know who they are, before they get offed.

 

In short, Tarantino is always self-indulgent – and even on that level, the two Kill Bill films – Volume II in particular – take it to the extreme. If you hate that kind of storytelling, then the films are probably insufferable – little more than masturbatory fantasies by a middle aged man who needs to grow the hell up. That criticism is fair enough – Tarantino is breaking the rules of cinematic storytelling here, and most of it is indulge himself. However, if you’re on his wavelength, the films are terrific. You have to look no further than the countless directors who have tried to do the same thing that Tarantino has done, and almost all of them have failed. Tarantino is the most self-indulgent filmmaker in the world. And he’s great at it.

The Films of Quentin Tarantino: Kill Bill Volume I (2003)

Kill Bill: Vol. 1 (2003) 

Directed by: Quentin Tarantino.

Written by: Quentin Tarantino and Uma Thurman (Character)

Starring: Uma Thurman (The Bride), Lucy Liu (O-Ren Ishii), David Carradine (Bill) Vivica A. Fox (Vernita), Michael Madsen (Budd), Daryl Hannah (Elle Driver), Julie Dreyfus (Sofie Fatale), Sonny Chiba (Hattori Hanzo), Chiaki Kuriyama (Gogo Yubari), Gordon Liu (Johnny Mo), Michael Parks (Earl McGraw), Michael Bowen (Buck), Jun Kunimura (Boss Tanaka), Kenji Ohba (Shiro), James Parks (Edgar McGraw), Sakichi Sato (Charlie Brown), Ambrosia Kelley (Nikki Bell).

 

When Kill Bill: Volume 1 opened in 2003, it marked the end of Tarantino’s longest period of inactivity in his career. It had been six years since Jackie Brown (which I don’t think had quite experienced its critical re-considering yet) – and it was fair to wonder if Tarantino was simply out of ideas – that he was a one trick pony, who had been copied so many times, by so many different indie directors trying (and mostly failing) to do what Tarantino had done – and that perhaps Tarantino would join the ranks of directors who left a massive impact on film culture, but not a massive body-of-work. But those concerns were put to rest by Kill Bill Volume 1 – which in many ways is the simplest film Tarantino has ever made, and in others is the most ambitious.

 

From a plot point-of-view, it’s simple. The Bride (Uma Thurman) was pregnant on her wedding day, when her former employer/lover Bill (David Carradine, unseen, but certainly heard in the film) and his four best assassins – O-Ren Ishii (Lucy Liu), Vernita (Vivica A. Fox), Budd (Michael Madsen) and Elle Driver (Darryl Hannah) burst into the wedding chapel, and killed everyone there – with the exception of the Bride, who was put into a coma. Five years later, she wakes up, and begins a path of revenge. In this first Volume, she tracks down Vernita and O-Ren, to exact her revenge.

 

For what it, admittedly, such a simple revenge film, it is kind of ridiculous that Tarantino felt the need to make a four hour, two-part film. The film is undeniably self-indulgent in the extreme – and as my wife likes to say, you can practically see Tarantino jerking off during every scene. She’s right, of course, but she also says that Volume 1 is still one of her very favorite films of all time. Because what would be masturbatory extreme and annoying in most directors, somehow isn’t with Tarantino. He is clearly lovingly recreating the revenge film he has loved in the past – the grindhouse films of the 1970s, his favorite kung fu and samurai films – and mixed them all up in his head, and come up with something truly original and unique.

 

He is undeniably helped a great deal by the great performance at its core by Uma Thurman. This is a film built on extremes, and you could certainly argue built on stereotypes in other characters. But Thurman’s The Bride gives the film a relatable, emotional core to the film. She wakes up with these memories of what happened to her, realizes that everything and everyone she loved has been killed, and she has nothing left. She also has to deal with orderly Buck – who she has to remember raped her for years – and pimped her out to others during that time as well. And although she is killing machine – dozens upon dozens will die in this film at her sword – she is not heartless. She won’t kill Vernita’s four-year daughter, and even does everything she can to not killed Vernita in front of her either. This is humorously mirrored late in the film when he literally spanks the youngest member of the Crazy 88 and tells her to go home to her mother.

 

From a filmmaking perspective, this is easily the most ambitious film that Tarantino had made up until this point. His first three films as a director all contained violence, but for the most part relied on quick, brutal, bloody moments to shock – violence came quickly and suddenly, and was over just as quickly. His most elaborate set pieces in those films were conversations – or the dance of the scam being pulled off in Jackie Brown. Here though, Tarantino crafts actual sustained action sequences – and does so brilliantly. The one early in the film – which is smart, even if it’s not in chronological order – is the fight sequence between The Bride and Vernita. It is small scale – at least compared to what would come later in the film – but is expertly crafted. It’s essentially a knife fight in a typical suburban home, with the two women crashing into each other, and everything else in sight. It also raises the emotional stakes a little – with Vernita talking about her daughter – and has some hilarious moments (“I shoulda been Black Mamba”).

 

It is the duel at the House of Blue Leaves that everyone remembers – and with good reason. It takes up about half of the 110 runtime of the film. Thurman walks into the crowded restaurant, looking great in her yellow jumpsuit, chops off O-Ren’s lieutenant’s arm, and declares war. From there, there is about three waves of attack until she can get to O-Ren – the first, some of the Crazy 88 – probably the lesser – come at her in small groups, and she handles them. Then there is a sustained fight sequence with teenage Gogo – wielding some sort of mace like weapon – which is brilliantly staged one-to-one combat. Then the legendary black and white sequence (because apparently the amount of blood would have required a NC-17 rating had it been in color) – where she takes on the rest of the Crazy 88 – including the great Gordon Liu. And finally, a one-on-one samurai sword battle that rivals the best of Japanese cinema – and is also mind-boggling gorgeous.

 

But even before we get, there are great sequences. Those who has recently accused Tarantino of not caring about female characters (a ridiculous claim – you can claim he writes bad female characters, or sexist ones, or caricatures, or writes them all as men – all valid criticisms, I just don’t happen to agree with, but saying he doesn’t care about them is demonstrably false) – should take note of the anime sequence in the film. Yes, it is more self-indulgence on the part of Tarantino – more masturbatory excess if you want to call it that – but it is brilliantly animated in the most extreme bloody way imaginable, as well as really diving into what made O-Ren into the woman we see. And Tarantino takes time there as well – a wonderfully comic Yakuza meeting, that ends with an over-the-top decapitation. O-Ren really gets more time than any other of the assassins – and Lucy Liu makes the most of it.

 

There is also the incredibly fun sequence at the sushi restaurant where The Bride tracks down Hattori Hanzo (Sonny Chiba – clearly a Tarantino favorite) – to get her to make her a samurai sword, even though he’s retired. This is the type of scene that Tarantino does better than anyone. In most films, you’d point to this sequence as something to cut for plot expediency reasons. But in Tarantino it becomes essential – entertaining, informative and wonderfully acted. It’s one of the reasons why having a four-hour, two-part revenge film works in his hands, and wouldn’t work in almost anyone else’s.

 

As a film unto itself, of course, Volume I is incomplete – sheathed down the middle because no one would want to see a four-hour film, and yet it needed to be that long. And yet, of course, it still works miraculously well by itself – and it gets you excited for what’s next. I’m not saying it’s a forerunner to the Marvel films – which does this type of thing all the time – but I’m also not not saying that. It’s a brilliant standalone film – and even better when combined with Volume II – which is a much different film.   

The Films of Quentin Tarantino: Jackie Brown (1997)

Jackie Brown (1997) 

Directed by: Quentin Tarantino.

Written by: Quentin Tarantino based on the novel by Elmore Leonard.

Starring: Pam Grier (Jackie Brown), Samuel L. Jackson (Ordell Robbie), Robert Forster (Max Cherry), Bridget Fonda (Melanie Ralston), Michael Keaton (Ray Nicolette), Robert De Niro (Louis Gara), Michael Bowen (Mark Dargus), Chris Tucker (Beaumont Livingston), LisaGay Hamilton (Sheronda), Tommy 'Tiny' Lister (Winston), Hattie Winston (Simone), Sid Haig (Judge).

 

It saddens me more than a little, that Jackie Brown is the one and only time Quentin Tarantino ever adapted someone else’s work as a screenplay. The film is based on an Elmore Leonard novel – who is a perfect fit for Tarantino in general, and what Tarantino does is combine his sensibility with Leonard’s, and really takes his time in the storytelling. Jackie Brown is the most narrative heavy of all of Tarantino’s films – and yet while many filmmakers’ instinct would be to move that complicated plots – with its schemes, and double crosses, etc. – along at a breakneck speed, Tarantino slows it all down so that you’re still hanging out with these characters for long stretches of time, even when seemingly not much is happening to drive the narrative forward. Perhaps this is why this is the best film ever made from a Leonard novel (the following year’s Out of Sight being a close second) – because it allows there to be time for these people to become real characters, and not just chess pieces being move around a board to get them where they need to be for the plot to work. This has always been a key in Leonard’s work – and it’s the easiest thing for most filmmakers to cut from his novels. Which is why so few actually capture his work well. I would have loved to see Tarantino take on other authors as well and come out with his own twisted versions of their style – because Jackie Brown is a masterpiece.

 

The plot revolves the title character (a great performance by Pam Grier), a middle aged airline stewardess, barely keeping her head above water, working for the worst airline imaginable, after a bust a few years before. She is bringing money into the country from Mexico for gun dealer Ordell Robbie (Samuel L. Jackson) – when she is stopped by ATF agent Ray Nicolette (Michael Keaton). They know who the money is for – but they want Jackie to help them prove it, and if not, she’ll go to jail. She is bailed out of jail by Ordell – who uses bail bondsman Max Cherry (Robert Forster) – to do it. Max and Jackie develop a sweet, subdued relationship – never quite crossing into romance, but very close. She hatches a scheme to get out from under everybody – and needs Max’s help. Meanwhile, Ordell is running his own schemes – involving an old buddy just out of jail, Louis Gara (Robert DeNiro) and his white surfer girl “friend” Melanie (Bridget Fonda).

 

Tarantino takes his time with this movie – mainly staying faithful to Leonard’s novel – aside from switching the action to LA from Miami, and changing the race of the lead character – but allows things to play out at their own pace. It is actually quite a while before we even meet Jackie Brown proper – we see Grier in the opening title sequence (as Across 110^th Street Plays) as she goes to work – but she doesn’t say anything. For the next almost 30 minutes, Tarantino immerses in Ordell’s world – as he shows off to Louis watching a video of women with guns, and explaining everything about them, and how much money he makes from them, as Melanie smokes pot and rolls her eyes in the background. Ordell first meets Max when another associate – Beaumont – gets busted, and he needs to bail him out. From their one scene together in Max’s bail bonds office, you know everything you need to know about both of them – Ordell cannot stop showing off, playing the big man, and trying to impress Max – who is clearly not impressed. He has seen Ordells before, and he’ll see more after – and he’s tired of the show. Following that we get the famous sequence between Jackson and Chris Tucker, as Beaumont, as Ordell has to convince him to come out with him. It’s a long, very long, dialogue sequence as Beaumont’s door – all in one shot – as the go back and forth in one of the great dialogue sequences in Tarantino’s career. How it ends lets us know how things will go from here on out should someone cross Ordell.

 

This is how Tarantino plays it throughout Jackie Brown. Every scene in the movie does, in fact, move the plot forward – this is a very narrative heavy film – and yet, each of them takes more time than is strictly necessary for the purpose of plot so that these characters become more than pawns in the game. And that is what makes the movie so great. The slow burn relationship between Jackie and Max is the most highly praised in the film – and with good reason. They have a slow key chemistry at first, that builds and builds throughout. There is an undercurrent of melancholy in their scenes together, as their connection deepens, yet they both know will not last. Grier, best known for play bad ass chicks in Blaxploitation films of the 1970s, is the perfect choice to play Jackie – who is as tough as any of those roles, but in a very different way. She isn’t going to be kicking ass like Coffy, but just getting through her life is tough enough. And Forster, whose career was even more on the skids that Grier’s at the time, is given the role of a lifetime – and underplays it brilliantly. There is a reason he is the only cast member to be nominated for an Oscar.

 

And yet, Tarantino extends that thought to everyone. Ordell is very much in Jackson’s wheelhouse – he can be funny and charming, but dangerous at the same time. But Jackson lets more insecurity to creep into this performance – Ordell is performing, because underneath it he is scared. This is one of the last great Robert DeNiro performances as well (he has started trying again – a little – in recent years but other than his underrated directorial effort, The Good Shepherd in 2006, there was about 15 years after this and Wag the Dog, where DeNiro seems to be phoning it in). He plays Louis as, well, nothing – a sack of dirty clothes basically – a guy who is out of jail, but has no idea how to fit in, and just kind of goes along to get along. And I think Bridget Fonda is brilliant as Melanie – the type of role that in any other film would have been a throw away role – an excuse to get an attractive blonde actress in a bikini for an entire role – but who Tarantino writes wonderfully, and Fonda plays even better. Melanie is a hanger on – falling further down the food chain as she ages – but just going along. Along with her performance in the following year’s A Simple Plan – this represents the best work of her career – and it saddens me greatly that she seemingly retired from acting just five years later – her last screen credit was in 2002).

 

Jackie Brown was somewhat underrated at the time it came out – and while I’m not quite on board with those who argue that it’s Tarantino’s best film, I do think it is a great film. Tarantino handles the twists and turns in the narrative – especially in that final act – in fascinating ways, doubling back several times to see how it all played out – but even then he takes his time. It’s also fascinating to think what direction his career could have gone had he kept adapting others work. Perhaps it would have made him concentrate on narrative more. And I like to think of a Tarantino film based on a Stephen King novel, or a James Ellroy or a Walter Mosley or any number of other authors. We aren’t likely to find out – but on the strength of Jackie Brown, I would have loved to have seen it.