[HEADING=1]Pulp Fiction, a Retrospective[/HEADING]
Spoilers you already know throughout
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mSvJwUFI_es[/youtube]
With my roommate away in London I have had ample time to walk around the house naked, masturbate in the kitchen and have a full fledged movie marathon.
It's strange how you have the good and honest intention of sitting down and catching up on recently-released movies, but whenever you have a moment to relax and unwind your hand will inevitably fall onto safe, familiar classics.
New films always seem like such an event to me. That, and I've got such a crippling fear of change that any new feelings on things sicken and revolt me in ways unimaginable.
Huh. That went to a dark place.
Anyway, with this in mind I'm sure you'll understand that I went with a series of old classics.
Star Wars V, The Shawshank Redemption, Fight Club, Date Movie, A Clockwork Orange- timeless, classic pieces.[footnote]You can go ahead and file that under J for "jokes that went too far". Don't worry, it'll have company like my idea for the TV show "America's Next Top Orphan" and "Sophie's Choice 2: The Choosening".[/footnote]
But then, whilst holding a certain DVD, I thought back to darker times.
I thought of how we used to walk around in the empty, gray hell of our day to day lives until Tarantino's breakthrough film, Reservoir Dogs, burst into the metaphoric room like a man made out of witty dialogue and springs - bouncing off the walls and delivering pop-culture references with all the energy and fervor of somebody who has been recently set on fire.
Cinema was never the same again. To this day it's an enduring, brilliant piece.
Having said this, Reservoir Dogs is not my favourite 'Tino.
I've always thought that Pulp Fiction- it's bigger, more quoteable brother- was always the masterpiece, and that no film by the director has come close since.
Now in the past I've commented that Tarantino can be a bit Marmite [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.147977#3420043], but in this case it's hard to find anyone who doesn't appreciate his musings on the Metric system or the Fonz-like coolness of The Wolf on at least some level.
You guessed right, gentle reader, it's time yet again for me to lick the boots of another stone cold classic, safe in the knowledge that any fanboyism will be absorbed by the fact that about 95% of you feel the same way as me.
Let's get into character.
Pulp Fiction is filled with wholesome, moral personalities, like Zed the Rapist and Lance the Smack Dealer.
Now, as you can see from the Muppet Trailer, there are quite a few characters to get through and I can't possibly list them all without having a few boredom related suicides on my conscience, so you'll have to forgive me for only giving them a quick once-over with the examination stick.
I don't expect all of you to make it, it won't be easy, and you will suffer.
Also, there's no actual reward for doing so.
Ah, my legendary salesmanship in action. Seriously, I couldn't sell ice to a burns victim.
Anyway, first on the roster we have a heroine-addicted, trigger happy, mob enforcer psychopath. Does this paragon of virtue have a name, I hear you ask? Yes, Vincent Vega, as played by John Travolta.
Travolta really gives a great performance here as the co-anti-hero of the film. He's smooth to the point of laconic and loves his 50's culture. This is a far cry from the man we see today, bending over and spreading his cheeks for every movie going in a vain attempt to fund his Scientology[footnote]Fun Fact: Charles Manson, the serial killer, was quoting saying that Scientology was "too crazy for me, man".[/footnote] subscription.
As a matter of fact Michael Madsen was going to play this role, Vincent being the brother of Vic Vega from Reservoir Dogs, but he had to opt out due to scheduling conflicts with another stone cold classic: Species.
Wow, I bet he doesn't regret that decision every night when he's drinking scotch, loading his revolver and crying.
Next to Vincent is Samuel L Jackson as Jules Winfield, the coolest ************ on earth.
This film got Jackson his first and only Oscar nomination, and it's one that's well earned.
In Jules he has a character which starts off cold blooded but gradually fades into something more relateable when a near-death experience opens his eyes to his own mortality, and makes him wonder if there really is more to life than quoting bible passages and generally being badass.
I'll save him the effort: no.
Next come the happy couple Mia Wallace (junkie, failed actress, generally annoying and ugly- but enough about Uma Therman) and Marsellus Wallace, played by Ving Rhames, filling out the boots of "tough crime boss".
Neither of characters have a particularly good time in this film, what with the heroine overdose for one and the anal intrusion for the other, but are both integral even if they don't share the same amount of screen time with Vincent and Jules.
Marsellus is characterised as a ruthless man, very protective of his wife (in a "if you touch her he'll punch your fucking leg off" kind of way) while Mia is portrayed as a woman who definitely loves her man despite all his flaws and gets her kicks from certain illicit, A-grade substances.
To their credit, they do great justice to their characters. They live up to the hype built up by the other players with barely half a story each to shine- bearing in mind that Therman was comatose for a lot of her screen time, and as for Rhames... well, ball gag, anyone?
Oddly, for this kind of movie, you don't see them have any kind of arguement whatsoever as a couple.
Usually this genre trips over itself to depict any relationship in the mafia world as being as stable as a seesaw made of spaghetti and band aids, but here it's not even mentioned. He loves her, she loves him, and they're doing pretty well.
Good Times.
Until, of course, Marsellus makes a deal with Butch Coolidge, played by Bruce When-He-Still-Had-Hair Willis.
Butch is an aging, past-it boxer who knows his time is up, and agrees to take a fall in a fight for Marcellus in return for a big, fat wedge.
Of course, Butch doesn't go down (it'd be fairly boring if he did), and hilarity ensues.
Also we have Samuel Jackson as Jules Winfield.
He's so cool he counts twice.
Since this hasn't even been published yet and I can already feel your eyes glazing over as you read this, I'll wrap it up by saying it's a testament to Tarantino's taste and skill that every character is cast brilliantly, used to the best of their ability and even the smallest line is given amazing amounts of polish and respect.
Oh, Harvey Keitel and Christopher Walken.
'Nuff said.
[HEADING=2]"Bacon tastes gooood. Pork chops taste gooood. "[/HEADING][small]Seriously, this is heaven.[/small]
The story focuses on the main character's interlacing lives; how they meet and interact with each other, how certain scenarios are avoided because of their partnership and how they support each other along the way.
It also focuses on the power of spoken storytelling, with scenes given much more power because there is back story to them.
The theme of loyalty is also presented, and how it is tested under extreme st- snoooooore.
Be honest, you don't care about any of this- all you want is the effortless, naturalistic, scathing, razor sharp dialogue.
It flows perfectly, and transforms a group of people from actors who have met ten minutes beforehand into a group of iron-clad friends with an immense implied history and back story together.
Take, for example, the dynamic between Vincent and Jules.
They constantly *****, take the piss out of each other and discuss deep, intimate issues with all the confidence of people who know they can't ruin their rapport with a simple line out of place.
On the subject of intimacy, and you'll have to forgive me for going off all sideways on you for a moment, but why oh why does Tarantino keep referencing his foot fetish in all of his films?
I hate feet, they look like deformed sausages with stale wotsits attached.
... Or maybe that's just mine.
Anyway, whatever a man wants to do in the privacy of his own home, but stop putting your masturbation material on display for the entire world to see, it's just creepy.
Okay, where was I?
Right yeah, friendship.
A picture is painted of real friends who have forged a relationship through hardship, adversity and mass murder.
But all of this would be moot if Tarantino didn't create such a familiar, atmospheric setting.
He crafts a real life world wherein no subject, from Salsa to Sodomy, feels out of place. No event in the film's diverse roster seems ridiculous.
Apart from Travolta's hair. Obviously.
It's also a film that's inspired great thought from media students everywhere.
You can never really stop these scumbags from picking apart a movie (pot, kettle) but here they seem to goad them along by giving them tasty morsels to chew on, and it is never more prominent than with the infamous briefcase.
Now, being an uneducated dullard, when I saw a heavy, valuable briefcase that everyone was after and shines bright yellow when opened I went right on ahead and thought that it was fucking gold.
Apparently, however, I'm not enough of a douchebag to appreciate this kind of movie.
I've heard theories that it contains Marsellus's soul, the good will of all men, and lastly, whilst I've been around people who are in no way under the influence of any illegal substances have heard that it contains whatever it is the person who is viewing it desires most.
I must admit, however, this kind of thinking is infectious.
Now, whenever see a litter tray and a nearby household animal, I think bullshit.
[HEADING=2]"And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee."[/HEADING]
Now, I love the film, but I really do have to admit that it has faults.
No, it's the faults section, I really do have to.
Like the medium it's named after, Pulp Fiction is trash.
It's well written, exquisitely acted, deeplying involving... but trash.
The mind is not engaged here in anything but smooth dialogue and bible quotations; it has no moral teachings and no issues to highlight in society or the world we live in.
The theme of redemption is touched, fondled almost, but never enough to really class it as that kind of film.
Consider the chapters as they are presented.
They are told out of order, and it is left to the viewer to assemble the jigsaw in a way that suits them. This gives for an exquisitely stylised piece that is seldom seen in the media.
But that's a phrase that is frequently used to describe QT's work: style over substance.
Well I have to agree, there is a veritable tsunami of style on display here, so much so that it washes away most of the plot.
If we can go back to the analogy of the jigsaw for a moment, it's actually quite astute.
The pieces fit together perfectly and seamlessly.
The only issue is that the pieces don't contain much in the way of an actual picture.
It relies heavily on certain McGuffins to spur the story along- the aforementioned Briefcase, the Ass Watch, Bits of Marvin's Skull, Heroine...
Nobody does anything because they want to, it's always acting under orders from someone else for unknown reasons, like the characters have all been given tracks they have to stick to. It's really at odds with the way the dialogue flows that such inorganic methods are used to get from Dialogue A to Mob-Shooting B. You get the feeling that the film would have benefited from some other form of motivation for the characters themselves, especially seeing how meticulously they have been planned out.
But when you delve deeper, you discover that this is a slice of real life, of voyeurism in it's purest form. When I go to bed at night, I don't think about how my personal quest of revenge for the death of my loved ones has taught me some valuable life lessons, imparted to me by a quirky cast of A-listers, all while I snuggle up to the sultry female lead played by Rachel Weisz.
No, I do what Vincent does: Go home, jerk off, and that's all I'm gonna do.
As a result, you are in the room when Butch flies off the handle about his watch, you really want to know what's in the briefcase (it probably is gold, but you just want to be told) and you feel genuine fear for Vincent when he finds Mia has OD'd- and the foot massage discussion really puts it into context.
It's at this point you realise how intricately woven the film is, and how this is characterisation at it's very, very finest.
But again, imagine Pulp Fiction being written as a standard narrative, with the chapters being told in sequence.
Style over Substance.
Much like this.
[HEADING=2]"Royale with cheese!"[/HEADING][small]Yeah, I just came.[/small]
The Vedict? Genius in dialogue, but not in storytelling.
The film is shallow, but there are so many layers of shallow that, if you squint, they almost meld together to create something that could easily be confused with depth.
It's a disturbingly realistic portrayal of the life of a group of people, wherein anything can and does happen, with all the absurdity that day to day life can bring.
As I said, I do think of this as QT's masterpiece, but with the experience he's had since the time of it's release - the many genres he's spanned, his experimental style and his refusal to step into a comfort zone and stay there - we can only hope that this was simply Pulp.
Not Peak.
___________________________________________________________________________________
Can't sleep? Me either.
Film: Night Watch [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.154980] / X-Men Origins: Wolverine [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.153507] / The Departed [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.149527] / Star Trek 2009 [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.149058#3470961] / A review of Love Happens (Without seeing it first) [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.148846#3460365] / Inglourious Basterds [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.147977#3420043] / Fight Club Essay [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.147655#3403751] / District 9 [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.147097#3373011] / The Crow 4: Wicked Prayer [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.137348#3089948]
Game: Resident Evil 4 Retrospective [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.148447#3440710] / Mass Effect [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.145571#3296970] / Final Fantasy: Dissidea [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.144913#3266704] / Metal Gear Solid Twin Snakes [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.140353#3149506] / Far Cry 2 [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.139317#3129015] / Street Fighter IV [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.136868#3079685]
Other: A Review of Society, via Call of Duty 4 [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.151891] / A review of My Cat [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.146281#3332788]
Game: Resident Evil 4 Retrospective [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.148447#3440710] / Mass Effect [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.145571#3296970] / Final Fantasy: Dissidea [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.144913#3266704] / Metal Gear Solid Twin Snakes [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.140353#3149506] / Far Cry 2 [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.139317#3129015] / Street Fighter IV [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.136868#3079685]
Other: A Review of Society, via Call of Duty 4 [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.151891] / A review of My Cat [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/326.146281#3332788]
