When Tarantino Took Over The 90's

Partial Education Presents

When Tarantino Took Over The 90's

Featuring Partially Educated Reviews of

Reservoir Dogs

True Romance

Pulp Fiction

Four Rooms

and Jackie Brown

I've often felt that Tarantino (particularly in his later career) has a habit of going on a bit, so in the interest of not being a hypocrite, let's just get on with it.

Caution: Reviews may contain frequent examples of me going on a bit.

In 1957, Sidney Lumet proved that having a group of men talking in a room for the entire duration of a film could still captivate the film audience and the magnificent 12 Angry Men was the result. Move forward to 1992 and Tarantino is doing just about the same, only mixing it up with the odd chase and some hefty doses of violence. You don't (or shouldn't) need me to tell you how great Reservoir Dogs is, but I'm going to do it anyway. Following a robbery gone wrong, the culprits which haven't died congregate in an abandoned warehouse where they not only have to decide what to do next, but also need to deal with the fact that one of their party has a bullet hole in his gut. Contrary to popular belief, Tarantino's favourite trick is not to drown his films in violence, but to prioritise giving his characters plenty to talk about and then place the violence around that. This doesn't work in some of his films, but Reservoir Dogs demonstrates why it's always worth giving it a chance. There's as much bang on wit as there is blood pouring from Tim Roth's expiring carcass and this is all laced with enough tension to keep you invested. The acting is mostly fantastic (Tarantino's dodgy, but he gives himself little to do and becomes less of an issue) and each character feels independently crafted to help them all become memorable. Technically, they're all villains, but some are more villainous than others, meaning that there isn't just that feeling of a few men trying to avoid a deserved comeuppance. Instead, their different levels of moral wobbling means that they're all forced to determine how far they're willing to take things, allowing the audience to still take a side when Michael Madsen goes psychotic. The beauty of Reservoir Dogs lies in it's simplicity and it's that side of things that can often be lacking from his films today. So, basically, if you've accidentally just watched Death Proof, you can always rest in the knowledge that Reservoir Dogs is there to take away the bad taste.

FIVE out of five

To date, there are only two films that Tarantino has written and allowed others to direct. One is the solid From Dusk Till Dawn, but True Romance is definitely one of the best things to ever spawn itself from the man's pen. Though the title isn't totally misleading, this is a romance existing around carnage, drugs and a whole host of shady people. Clarence (Christian Slater) and Alabama (Patricia Arquette) meet and instantly fall in love, accentuated by Clarence's killing of Alabama's abusive pimp (Gary Oldman in one of many roles that are as brief as they are excellent). Now on the run with a metric crap load of cocaine, the two seek to make the fortune that will allow them to live their dream life, more than happy to accept the depths they must plumb in order to get there. Like a lot of Tarantino's work, this is a film that flows from character to character, with each chapter (so to speak) usually being highlighted by the departure of one person and arrival of another. This means that where most of the actors only get one or two scenes in which they can shine, our two leads are the only ones that stick around for the duration. In other films, an approach like this can be a problem, but the movements between each location and character flow naturally and cohesively. With each actor having that one moment to impress, it means that the performances feel focussed and demanding of your attention. This is none more evident than in what is one of Tarantino's greatest moments; Christopher Walken making his way into proceedings with a scene that's every bit as menacing as it is funny. Both actors that are involved in this part play it at their absolute best, but I won't name the other one for fear of spoiling it. If anything, these great performances serve to overshadow Slater and Arquette a little bit, but though they don't get that big scene which serves as their moment to shine, they provide the one common thread in their own quest. Crucially, their relationship feels real and, despite the actions they're taking, they instil that desire in the audience to see them get their happy ending. Tony Scott's style as director is also a huge asset to the film, with his typical faster pace coming into effect when necessary, but he allows himself to slow down and frame the conversations as befitting (if anything, they feel like scenes Tarantino would have directed himself). The combination of Scott and Tarantino is in fact so good that it's a shame they didn't do more together, as True Romance cancels out just about all of their shortcomings and brings out their mutual strengths. It could have been a glorious partnership, but instead, we'll just have to live with the one shining example.

FIVE out of five

When reviewing an undeniably classic film, it can be very hard to not sound negative if giving that film anything less than a perfect score. So, in a break from tradition, let me give the what before the why. Here's the score:

FOUR out of five

And here's why. As far as I'm concerned, a score of four means that I really like the film and I want to stress the really. It also means that if someone asked me whether they should watch it, I wouldn't hesitate in saying yes, unless I knew that person hated that sort of film. On that basis, I have no issues with the fact that many people adore Pulp Fiction and hold it as one of the greatest films of all time. For me to give a film five out of five though, I have to be able to come out of it and say there was next to nothing wrong with it. It also has to have that special spark that fully resonates with me and leaves me feeling like I could put it on and watch it again immediately. It's that last bit that I don't get with Pulp Fiction. The film contains almost entirely excellent performances, a top notch script and some of the most wickedly sleazy, but always funny, humour out there. It even holds one of my favourite sections of film ever, namely Bruce Willis at his absolute best, in a story that may earn the film it's 18 certificate in the space of one 5-10 minute scene, but is just so utterly bonkers that you can't help but go with it. On occasion though, the film marks the start of Tarantino's forays into a self indulgence that would lead to him creating some pretty average work and eventually bring us inferior work. It's not just in Tarantino's insistence on giving himself a supporting role, despite being one of only two people (the other's Robert Rodriguez) who actually believes he has an iota of acting talent. He allows scenes to go on too long on occasion, not to the point that they completely stagnate, but just to the point where I was glad to see the back of them. That said, Pulp Fiction is a film that almost everyone should see (if you're a prude about violence or swearing, then either get over it, or don't bother) and a film that any moderate to strong film fan should have already seen. As for that debate over whether it should have won the Best Picture Oscar, it shouldn't have, but neither should have Forrest Gump. There's a certain film about some building called Shawshank.

I'm quite glad for Four Rooms actually, because it's the sort of film that really trivialises my issues with Pulp Fiction and makes me realise just how unimportant they are when, in the long run, I've still at least enjoyed the film. See, for everything that Pulp Fiction gets right, Four Rooms gets something wrong. Then, for everything that Pulp Fiction perhaps gets wrong (though I feel that word may be a little strong), Four Rooms also gets it wrong. Tim Roth's hotel bellboy, Ted, goes about his business on New Year's Eve, but keeps finding himself in rooms (four of them, believe it or not) in which weird or nefarious (usually both) deeds are occurring. The best way to review this is probably to do it one story at a time, but instead of doing it in order of appearance, I'm going to do it from least to most weird.

1) A jealous husband suspects his wife of cheating on him with Ted and so holds him at gunpoint. Alexandre Rockwell goes for a simple concept that could work well for farce and then flubs it. The script is painful, the acting shoddy and wooden and it's never good when you're wishing the guy with a gun would just blow everyone's head off and then his own. As a result, it's the second best of the shorts.

2) Robert Rodriguez directs Antonio Banderas as a shady rich bloke who enlists Ted to babysit his children. Both children are naturally nightmares and also attribute the horrible smell in the room to each other's feet. It's the best one on offer, mainly because the two young performances from Lana McKissack and Danny Verduzco are fairly spirited and lift the whole thing. I still don't remember laughing though.

3) This is where we tip the scales into more ridiculous territory, as a group of directors enlist Ted's help in ensuring a bet is settled. The problems with this segment are threefold. The first is simple, it's far too long. The second: it gets more and more stupid as it goes along, but not in a controlled, humorous Fawlty Towers kind of way. Instead, it's in a self-serving-oh-wouldn't-you-know-it-Tarantino-wrote-it kind of way. The final problem: Tarantino is also acting in it, FOR THE WHOLE SEGMENT!!!!! Made worse by the fact that in the first and worst segment, we've already endured the acting of…

4) …Madonna! Furthermore, this segment revolves around witches hunting for sperm. I mean, do you need me to continue?

That's what Four Rooms has to offer you. The anchor is obviously Roth, who inhabits all four stories, with a performance that's so unrestrained and loopy that it at least alleviates some of the pain of what's going on around him. Though, really, even his performance is pretty crap.

ONE out of five

This is the film that I've heard a lot of people point to as Tarantino's best film. Only it's not. By any stretch. Paying homage to the blaxploitation films of old, Jackie Brown follows it's air stewardess title character as she unwittingly makes herself the transporter for a drug deal. With no real other options, she is made to work with the police to bring down the dealers. This is a world in which everyone is trying to screw over everyone else, so the real story is going to be hidden behind about twenty fake ones and that's where the films biggest problem lies. Despite a solid script from Tarantino, the film's multiple attempts to hide what's going on don't work and the whole thing is nothing if not predictable. So much so, that it makes it all a little uninteresting, as there just isn't a whole lot to get excited about. Pam Grier is pretty good in the role of Jackie, but while it may go down as an great comeback performance, it's never going to be mentioned without that word comeback getting involved. There's a few neat moments here and there and the three-way perspective denouement is particularly well done. Ultimately though, there's far too much concern with the film appearing cool. It's successful in that respect, but that doesn't prevent it from being boring more often than it should be. That's all I can really think to say about Jackie Brown to be honest. It is far from Tarantino at his worst and the film is mostly good enough. If that's not damning with faint praise though, nothing ever will be.

THREE out of five

The Bonus Review

These are going to become a semi-regular (in that I'm not guaranteeing them every week and have no idea about regularity) feature now because, quite frankly, there are certain times when I'll want (or need) to review a film but either can't think of a topic or just have other topics that are being prioritised. It also means I can drill out reviews of the newest films without having to cobble together a full article around it, which is convenient because…

Michael Keaton is an actor who I have always admired. It helps that he played one of my favourite characters of all time in Beetlejuice, but there's more to it than that. Despite all the crap films that have been thrown at him since he stepped down from the role of Batman, he's never gone out and moaned, never started delivering bad performances by way of protest and he's always seemed like a consummate professional. Mercifully then, some 20 years later, the man has found a role that pushes him back into the spotlight for all the right reasons. It helps that the film is every bit as great as he is. Keaton plays Riggan Thomson, an actor known best for his role as Birdman, now attempting to prove to the world that he is more than just that character, by putting on a Broadway production of Raymond Carver's What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. The fact that the character has that resonance with Keaton's own career isn't as much of a problem as it could have been. The risk was that this was going to feel a bit Tarantino, sorry, self indulgent; but the film feels more reflective, with Keaton using his own past to bring an understanding to that of Riggan's plight. It's also true that Keaton's own fading from the spotlight never really reached the depths that Riggan's has and so it's fairly easy to differ the two. Keaton's performance is far and away the best thing about the film, but that becomes even more of a complement when considering how everyone else pretty much nails it as well. All the supporting performances are pretty top notch, meaning that singling out would be unfair. Suffice to say, all the acting nominations are deserved and many more should be forthcoming. Behind the camera lies just as much brilliance. Writer-director Alejandro González Iñárritu presents what might well be his most focussed package, presenting the story in a much simpler way than the likes of 21 Grams and Babel. No disrespect to those films, but this works much better without the sometimes unnecessary multiple strand angle of those films. Emmanuel Lubezki follows his award winning cinematography work on Gravity with proof that he deserves those awards a second time around. If you haven't heard about the very important way that this film is shot, then I won't spoil it for you, but the way it's done is sublime. Then there's everyone else. At the end of the film, there's this thing where everyone's name goes from the bottom of the screen to the top and frankly everyone's name on that list deserves mentioning, but that would make for one hell of a boring review. Birdman kicks off 2015 and if the end of the year sees Birdman ranking outside of the year's best films, then we've had an almighty good year.

FIVE out of five

Next Time (January 15th)

The Mandatory Review