Ahh, Grindhouse, you can’t really sum it up with one word, although, a good start would be go see it. Yeah, it’s not one word, but if you’re a fan of the b-movie, then what the hell are you still sitting there for, get off your ass and buy a ticket (It’ll make the Weinstein’s happy, and hopefully prevent them from separating the movies…).
This isn’t so much a review as it is my feelings on the Event. Jeff, Donny or Carl can provide a review.
Spoilers abound, by the by:
Planet Terror:
- Most cringe worthy moment / moment I could identify with – Marley breaking her wrist by way of her insensible shoes (those who know the identity of the Jesus will know what I’m talking about);
- Should a zombie decide to gnaw on my leg; a machine gun replacement would be awesome (that is, if Patrick Duffy and his celery leg were not available);
- Freddy Rodriguez – wow. You’ve come a long way baby. (Was his name a nod to “El Ray” from Dusk till Dawn?)
- Boils, ew;
- Quentin’s drippy dick, eww, ewww, ewwww;
- The ending was kind of sappy.
Trailers:
- Yeah, I want every one of those “movies” to be made.
Death Proof:
- I was a bit concerned about the beginning, it did start a bit slow;
- Rose should never go blonde again;
- What was up with Butterfly’s nose;
- I loved the revisit of the crash (seriously, the flash back to the car running up her head!);
- Son #1 – I really dug all the nods to previous movies, see above;
- Chase scene – I wonder how many people left the movie and immediately got speeding tickets (or ran blinking red lights…) That said, I wonder how may people put Vanishing Point in their Netflix queues?
Could it be that Grindhouse was Robert & Quentin’s version of the Chick Flick?
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1 comment:
I LOVED the Grindhouse double-feature, man! I wanna go see it again. All four hours of it!
There are only two real downsides I can come up with and I'll get them out of the way first. As you might legitimately expect from me, I wanted to see more nudity. Rose particularly. This is supposed to be Grindhouse cinema, right? Grindhouse equals topless women the last time I checked. Every grindhouse flick I've ever seen (thank you "Something Weird Video") has featured sex- which ninety-nine percent of the time entailed nudity (Hey! What do you know? Just like real life!) Even if it was the local New York City hamburger-eating queen dancing to horrible go-go music, she was shaking those buns without a top on.
And not that I should know better than the two successful offbeat filmmakers involved... but "Planet Terror" was not grindhouse or even neo-grindhouse cinema. It wasn't even watered-down-for-the-masses grindhouse cinema (ala Tarantino's "Death Proof") It was classic 80s B-movie horror, period. So sorry, Mr. Rodriguez. One (tame) go-go scene at the beginning of your film does not a grindhouse movie make (but I liked the song you wrote for it.)
So alright. I've made my two gripes. So why do I want to go see it again? Because "Planet Terror" appeals to the B-movie horror buff in me and "Death Proof" was ridiculously fun to watch. The plot was comprised totally of grindhouse elements (seedy greaser guy, muscle cars, sexy chicks, murder of sexy chicks) but as I parenthetically mentioned above it was watered-down-for-the-masses. This isn't necessarily a bad thing. Grindhouse cinema (at least the flicks I have seen) will bore you to tears in short order. The genre is best suited for when you feel like watching another movie at home but thing you're going to pass out on the couch. The only thing that'll keep a viewer watching is the hope that the sexy sixties lady in the beehive hairdo will bare her bosoms in black in white. (She usually does, but you may want to pass out anyhow.)
Quentin used the gaping hole in the grindhouse genre (where a plot might have been) to showcase his signature application of classic semi-forgotten tunes, wise-cracking character dialog, and nods to previous films. He likes to bend the "rules" of typical screenwriting (as the world learned in Pulp Fiction) and he does it here in a more of a "Being John Malkovich" way by incorporating a real life person who plays herself (Zoe Bell) among a group of purely fictionalized characters. Zoe (most notably the stunt double for Uma Thurman in the "Kill Bill" movies) gets to interact with Tarantino's fictional "Stunt Man Mike" by- you guessed it- doing stunts! It's just a really cool concept that ties together perfectly with the film's plot, the chosen genre, and Tarantino's quirky film making. If you're anything like me, you'll find yourself riveted by the action scenes and wonder why the heck you care. "Oh yeah! This isn't CG! She's actually DOING that! Holy fuck, that's cool!"
Oh, and for the record- I didn't say that there was NO nudity during Grindhouse. I said that I wanted to see MORE nudity. The inter-movie trailers provide some quick flashes of the ol' fun bags to make the horn dogs smile. (Lady on the Left in the "Machete" trailer- I love you!)
So quit reading this and go get your friends together to see Grindhouse. Buy the "Death Proof" soundtrack and groove to it during your afterparty. Then pass out on the couch when someone decides to play an actual grindhouse movie.
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