Death Proof (18.)
Directed by Quentin Tarantino.
Starring Kurt Russell, Rosario Dawson, Vanessa Ferlito, Rose McGowan, Tracie Thomas, Zoë Bell. 114 mins
In his latest film Quentin plays us some more of his favourite music, tells us about some of his favourite films, introduces us to some of his new friends and slashes up a few of his favourite young actresses.
Death Proof is Tarantino’s half of the ill fated Grindhouse project. When the idea for was announced, the idea of him and Robert Rodriquez (Sin City) knocking back and making a quick, light-hearted tribute to the double bill exploitation movies of their adolescence had seemed like a decent wheeze, a chance for a recharge after the indulgent blind alley of Kill Bill.
Except they somehow managed to come up with a film that was over three hours long and cost over $50 million. What kind of idiot makes an homage to the cheap thrills of their youth that is neither cheap nor thrilling? (To be fair most of that money probably went on Rodriquez’s effects laden Planet Terror.)
After Grindhouse flopped at the US box office the double bill format has been dropped, the two films split and we get instead a longer version of Tarantino’s effort, in which Stuntman Mike (a tremendous turn by Kurt Russell) stalks the back roads of Texas and Tennessee terrorising young ladies in his big black car. There’s a glimmer of an idea here, JG Ballard spliced into slasher movie conventions, but QT blows in a plodding morass of tedious yap and knowing references.
Some critics have accused Tarantino of misogyny because he films attractive girls getting dismembered. I’d say he was misogynist because when he writes dialogue for male characters it’s sharp and thrilling but when he does it for groups of women it is dull, repetitive and it just goes on and on and on. QT has put together another achingly cool soundtrack for this film but the tune that I came out humming was Chas ‘n’ Dave’s Rabbit
It’s one thing to make a self consciously “bad” film but did it really need to be so incredibly, mind-numbingly tedious? His is very odd vision of exploitation movies. There’s no nudity and apart from a few moments that are wincingly unpleasant, very little violence.
There’s something chilling about seeing someone so consciously beating a retreat from their talent. Why does Miramax (a company who routinely interfere with directors and even gave Scorsese the hurry up on Gangs of New York,) continue to indulge him?* Tarantino’s career has suffered perhaps the steepest decline of any major director since Orson Welles. The difference is that his decline is quite wilful.
*Because the company was basically founded on the money they made on Pulp Fiction
Directed by Quentin Tarantino.
Starring Kurt Russell, Rosario Dawson, Vanessa Ferlito, Rose McGowan, Tracie Thomas, Zoë Bell. 114 mins
In his latest film Quentin plays us some more of his favourite music, tells us about some of his favourite films, introduces us to some of his new friends and slashes up a few of his favourite young actresses.
Death Proof is Tarantino’s half of the ill fated Grindhouse project. When the idea for was announced, the idea of him and Robert Rodriquez (Sin City) knocking back and making a quick, light-hearted tribute to the double bill exploitation movies of their adolescence had seemed like a decent wheeze, a chance for a recharge after the indulgent blind alley of Kill Bill.
Except they somehow managed to come up with a film that was over three hours long and cost over $50 million. What kind of idiot makes an homage to the cheap thrills of their youth that is neither cheap nor thrilling? (To be fair most of that money probably went on Rodriquez’s effects laden Planet Terror.)
After Grindhouse flopped at the US box office the double bill format has been dropped, the two films split and we get instead a longer version of Tarantino’s effort, in which Stuntman Mike (a tremendous turn by Kurt Russell) stalks the back roads of Texas and Tennessee terrorising young ladies in his big black car. There’s a glimmer of an idea here, JG Ballard spliced into slasher movie conventions, but QT blows in a plodding morass of tedious yap and knowing references.
Some critics have accused Tarantino of misogyny because he films attractive girls getting dismembered. I’d say he was misogynist because when he writes dialogue for male characters it’s sharp and thrilling but when he does it for groups of women it is dull, repetitive and it just goes on and on and on. QT has put together another achingly cool soundtrack for this film but the tune that I came out humming was Chas ‘n’ Dave’s Rabbit
It’s one thing to make a self consciously “bad” film but did it really need to be so incredibly, mind-numbingly tedious? His is very odd vision of exploitation movies. There’s no nudity and apart from a few moments that are wincingly unpleasant, very little violence.
There’s something chilling about seeing someone so consciously beating a retreat from their talent. Why does Miramax (a company who routinely interfere with directors and even gave Scorsese the hurry up on Gangs of New York,) continue to indulge him?* Tarantino’s career has suffered perhaps the steepest decline of any major director since Orson Welles. The difference is that his decline is quite wilful.
*Because the company was basically founded on the money they made on Pulp Fiction
