Death Proof
2007. Written and directed by Quentin Tarantino. Starring Kurt Russell, Rosario Dawson, Zoe Bell, Vanessa Ferlito, Sydney T. Poitier, Tracie Thoms, and Rose McGowan.
"Remember when I said this car was death proof? Well, that wasn't a lie. This car is 100% death proof. Only to get the benefit of it, honey, you REALLY need to be sitting in my seat."
I never imagined, even as infrequently as I venture out into the theatres these days, that I would miss Grindhouse in the theatre. Part one, Death Proof, arrived in the mail last night. I put the kids to bed and then put it on. I went to bed at midnight, a little exhilarated, a little scared, a little surprised, and maybe even just a little disappointed. Quentin Tarantino is a master filmmaker (though his acting skills can bring a movie to a halt, please stop) and he recreates the exploitation genre he grew up loving. It is only natural to wish for the next Pulp Fiction or even the next Jackie Brown when you watch the new Tarantino, so Death Proof can be a disappointment by not matching the high standards Quentin has created for himself. It is easy to stay glued to the screen watching this ultra-violent story. It is engrossing and genuinely freaky at some points. The high mark, in my mind, comes when Pam (Rose McGowan) takes Stunt Man Mike (Kurt Russell) up on a ride home and he asks her which way she is going. The response Stunt Man Mike gives sent chills down my bones. The movie never achieves greatness, but Tarantino achieved what he was after: a recreation that honors what came before while remaining intoxicating. With the right crowd, in a sick and twisted way, this could have been a blast in the theatre.
My grade: B+.
"Remember when I said this car was death proof? Well, that wasn't a lie. This car is 100% death proof. Only to get the benefit of it, honey, you REALLY need to be sitting in my seat."
I never imagined, even as infrequently as I venture out into the theatres these days, that I would miss Grindhouse in the theatre. Part one, Death Proof, arrived in the mail last night. I put the kids to bed and then put it on. I went to bed at midnight, a little exhilarated, a little scared, a little surprised, and maybe even just a little disappointed. Quentin Tarantino is a master filmmaker (though his acting skills can bring a movie to a halt, please stop) and he recreates the exploitation genre he grew up loving. It is only natural to wish for the next Pulp Fiction or even the next Jackie Brown when you watch the new Tarantino, so Death Proof can be a disappointment by not matching the high standards Quentin has created for himself. It is easy to stay glued to the screen watching this ultra-violent story. It is engrossing and genuinely freaky at some points. The high mark, in my mind, comes when Pam (Rose McGowan) takes Stunt Man Mike (Kurt Russell) up on a ride home and he asks her which way she is going. The response Stunt Man Mike gives sent chills down my bones. The movie never achieves greatness, but Tarantino achieved what he was after: a recreation that honors what came before while remaining intoxicating. With the right crowd, in a sick and twisted way, this could have been a blast in the theatre.
My grade: B+.
posted by Keith Allison at 8:19 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home