Death Proof

I have no idea why this movie is so long. Why dilute a solid story (that doesn't start until the middle of the movie) with a completely unnecessary, nearly one hour prolog? Especially since after the prolog there is a “reboot’ and we start again. In the first part, we have to watch uninteresting characters, embarrassing cameos, and wannabe cool dialogs that even the hardworking Kurt Russell can’t save. The second half is basically the same, but it works mainly thanks to the likable ladies and Tarantino dialogs. The final car chase has the right atmosphere and edge to it. Technically and stylistically, it’s perfect to the smallest detail from Quentin, but that was to be expected. It is clear that he has not only seen a lot of movies, but that he can do more than just imitate, unlike Rodriguez. In particular, the idea of advancing the plot through the use of a missing film reel is ingenious and much better executed than in Planet Terror. Overall, however, I think the Grindhouse project would only benefit from both parts being shortened. Especially in the case of Tarantino's part, which is significantly better in terms of filmmaking and style, but surprisingly lags behind his colleague's more straightforward piece in terms of entertainment. (29/06/2007)

The girls are hot (maybe too hot) and anyone who only looks at their mouths the entire time might get bored eventually. They talk about nothing and that's why most people brush off the dialogue as a weakness. But anyone who's been eyeing Warren's bar, where there are a lot of posters, a cool jukebox, and good drinks being poured, will understand that Quentin has got things figured out pretty damn well. Every now and then the girls drop a suspiciously familiar line from another film and everyone with half a brain realizes that someone here has studied the history of (not only) trash pretty damn well. Although the pulp aesthetic is quite foreign to me, I enjoyed this delightful ride with Quentin as much as Stuntman Mike enjoyed his car. (14/10/2007)

As a stand-alone, this film doesn’t work, that’s pretty clear. But as part of a tribute to a decadent genre, beginning with Rodriguez's macabre starter, the trailers for fictional B-movies, and even the image with the patina of preserved VHS tapes with all the scratches and skips (in the American distribution version, a sign appeared after the lap dance scene apologizing for a piece that was missing due to the poor technical condition of the filmstrip), it has its own unique charm (which is why I consider the division of Grindhouse a fatal mistake). I understand that for many uninitiated viewers the pacing will be a bit " homicidal" – girls fooling around in the car, girls fooling around in the pub, Arlene texting her boyfriend at length, girls fooling around again, Arlene texting AGAIN at length, etc. – and I'm sure it will seem very "bad" to them, but looking at the films Tarantino pays fan tribute to, I have no doubt that he had everything under control, knew what he was doing and that it was supposed to be that "bad". Just look at Meyer's Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!, from which Tarantino also drew: the girls fool around with each other, fool around with the guys, fool around with each other again, in the meantime they take out one guy, and at the end there's some action. Comparing it to Tarantino's previous films or calling it "boring" is a complete misunderstanding of his creative intent. He just made a fan tribute to himself for his own enjoyment and I ate it up with gusto. And the "old-school" car chase at the end was a treat! (25/08/2007)

Tarantino simply cannot be denied, no matter what he does. The film doesn't lack anything I've come to expect from it - top-notch dialogue (Kurt Russell + whoever, the girls talking about why having a gun is better than "some knife"), winks at the seasoned viewer, lots of fun and a dense atmosphere that has little to do with humor. The finale was breathtaking on the big screen. I applauded the ending! (16/01/2008)

Some clever director's whim, a traditionally listenable soundtrack and occasionally nice cameos. That's all Tarantino gave me and this desperate spectacle made me so angry. Two completely identical parties of overdressed silly kittens with annoying dialogues, making even the conversations from worse of the director's scripts seem like genius. And on top of that, a main villain who disappears for long minutes, resulting in one unsexy dance and one tired car chase. The video rental weirdo has run out of ideas and becomes just a weirdo again, who enjoys watching somewhat strange movies. I don't blame him, but in that case, he shouldn't boast about any "the best" labels. More than a decade later, undoubtedly the worst Tarantino movie, fortunately meaning rock bottom, from which the only way was up, fortunately several floors up. (14/03/2008)