The Decade List: Grindhouse (2007)

Grindhouse – dir. Robert Rodriguez, Quentin Tarantino, Rob Zombie, Edgar Wright, Eli Roth

Probably the most rousingly effective ode to bad taste that graced the cinemas over the past ten years, Grindhouse provided its audience what so few of the exploitation films it honors only hinted toward: the meat (and outside of Antichrist, my Decade List entries have been a little too “respectable” lately). With both the meat and the sizzle on the plate, Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino (as well as Rob Zombie, Edgar Wright and Eli Roth who directed shorts that accompanied the double-feature) recreated the spirit of the films they both love so much with their back-to-back sleaze fests, Planet Terror and Death Proof, both of which just so happen to be two of the best films either director has ever made. The former is the best thing Rodriguez has ever done; with Tarantino, it’s not as certain.

As its intended theatrical double-feature, both Planet Terror and Death Proof hilariously play off one another, despite aligning with different subsets of exploitation films. Planet Terror is blissful mayhem from the Rose McGowan go-go dancing credit sequence to its absurd (in the good way), utopian ending. Death Proof, however, takes its time, alienating certain viewers with its incessant long-take dialogue and Tarantino pop culture references. Yet, however you feel about the rest of the film, Death Proof offers the most exhilarating finale for not just the Tarantino entry, but Grindhouse itself. The positioning of the films is almost as crucial as the films themselves, not to mention that both sort of play off one another. In Planet Terror, we hear a radio dedication to one of the characters in Death Proof, not to mention that McGowan appears in both films as drastically different characters and Marley Shelton as the same one. And in a way, Grindhouse is just as much an ode to the specific charms of Rose McGowan as it is grindhouse films of the past.

While I generally lean toward Death Proof as the superior of the two, I suppose it really boils down to a matter of (dis)taste. Planet Terror is about as faithful as you can get to a zombie-infused nuclear apocalypse film. The script, by Rodriguez, would have probably been ranked as one of the more efficient and skilled (in a screenwriting sense) of the time, had it came out during said period. Everything obnoxiously and hilariously comes back in the end, from corny life lessons to disputes among characters, one in particular involving a barbeque recipe. The screenplay is so artless that it reaches a level of tongue-in-cheek beauty.

Death Proof, however, functions drastically differently. I, personally, haven’t felt like Quentin Tarantino has ever really followed up Pulp Fiction; the tepid Jackie Brown and overrated Kill Bill series don’t feel like films as much as they do time-wasters, even though time wasting is what Tarantino does best in Death Proof. In hindsight, one realizes that Death Proof only exists for its final fifteen-minutes, its utterly invigorating car chase. Once again, I’d like to quote my friend Tom, who hilariously described James Gray’s We Own the Night as “a car chase in search of a movie;” that particular statement would perfectly describe Death Proof, only in this case its not a criticism. While some might disagree with it not being a criticism, the chattiness in Death Proof isn’t merely a Tarantino motif as it is intentionally unintentional suspense. There’s an overcast of fear and terror that runs throughout the film which heightens with every silly talk-fest that is seemingly just leading up to the film’s stunning climax. When the film reaches its second act (Death Proof itself is something a double bill), there’s a real uneasiness about what is about to transpire. The excessive build-up to the game of ship’s mast that stuntwoman Zoë Bell and Tracie Thoms want to play is both irritating and alarming. Their chatter, which just fills screen time to the act itself, makes for brilliant danger, which Tarantino will execute like, really, no other in the scene that follows. I appreciate the long stretches of dialogue that seem to be about nothing, because it feels like an authentic exploitation film that wrote some semblance of a screenplay around a single jolting car chase sequence. Pop culture references from Lindsay Lohan to Vanishing Point (and the best of the lot, when Rosario Dawson tells her girlfriends that her director boyfriend fucked Daryl Hannah’s stand-in) become permissible not because Death Proof is so good but because modesty doesn’t really have any place here.

I mentioned in the piece on Children of Men that I pity those who missed it in the theatre, as the home theatre experience could never fully recreate the cinema experience, and this statement applies just as much to Grindhouse (and it would even if The Weinstein Company had released Grindhouse officially on DVD instead as two separate films). I don’t mean to suggest that the best cinematic experiences come in the form of bold “action flicks;” I still regret that I had to see the majestic Flight of the Red Balloon on television and not in the theatre (and I also defended the theatre-going experience with Mulholland Drive as well). But anyway, I can’t really think of another theatrical experience I had in the past 10 years that was more entertaining to the point of beatific exhaustion than Grindhouse.

With: Rose McGowan, Kurt Russell, Marley Shelton, Zoë Bell, Rosario Dawson, Tracie Thoms, Freddy Rodriguez, Josh Brolin, Sydney Tamiia Portier, Vanessa Ferlito, Jeff Fahey, Michael Biehn, Jordan Ladd, Naveen Andrews, Bruce Willis, Quentin Tarantino, Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Eli Roth, Rebel Rodriguez, Tom Savini, Omar Doom, Michael Parks, Electra Avellán, Elise Avellán, Stacy Ferguson, Marcy Harriell, James Parks, Jay Hernandez, Udo Kier, Sheri Moon Zombie, Nicolas Cage, Sybil Danning, Tom Towles, Bill Moseley, Simon Pegg, Nick Frost, Katie Melua, Matthew Macfadyen, Danny Trejo, Cheech Marin, Will Arnett
Screenplay: Robert Rodriguez, Quentin Tarantino, Rob Zombie, Edgar Wright, Jeff Rendell, Eli Roth
Cinematography: Robert Rodriguez, Quentin Tarantino, Phil Parmet, Milan Chadima
Music: Graeme Revell, Robert Rodriguez, Carl Thiel, Tyler Bates, David Arnold, Nathan Barr
Country of Origin: USA
US Distributor: Dimension/The Weinstein Company

Premiere: 6 April 2007

Sony's New Hollywood Set Delayed; the original Scent of a Woman premieres on DVD; and more

While Sony's Rita Hayworth set got a new release date (23 February) for its delay, no date has been listed for the now-delayed New Hollywood box set, which most notably contains the US DVD premiere of Jack Nicholson's Drive, He Said. Sony's Film Noir Classics, Volume 1 released today, but it looks as though Volume 2 has also been postponed indefinitely. Hen's Tooth Video, however, announced the first Region 1 release of Dino Risi's Profumo di donna, which was remade in the 90s as Scent of a Woman with Al Pacino in the Vittorio Gassman role, on 16 February. Rob Zombie's Halloween 2 is set for 12 January but through Sony, not The Weinstein Company... which leads me to wonder if we'll be seeing any more releases from TWC. Universal is releasing Inglourious Basterds in December, but it was a co-production between the studios. Hmm.

Nothing especially enticing on the Blu-ray front, other than Disney's upcoming Beauty and the Beast on 5 October 2010. I do have a soft spot for Renny Harlin's Cliffhanger, which Sony has dated for 12 January; I do not have any warm feelings toward their other Blu-ray release for that day, John McTiernan's Last Action Hero. And finally, bad news for all you Billy Jack fans: Image has yet again pushed its date; this time to 1 May. Gee, and I thought that would have been a film to get people to make the conversion. The DVD releases are listed in descending order of release.

Also, in the next coming day or two, I'll be posting the first of sure-to-be-many end-of-the-year/decade lists. This list will cover the notable Region 1 DVD premieres in 2009, as it looks as though most of the year's releases have been announced by now. One question I do ask: can anyone confirm that the DVDs Facets was releasing of Hans-Jürgen Syberberg's Ludwig: Requiem for a Virgin King and Karl May actually came out? Thanks in advance!

- Cash, 2008, d. Eric Besnard, IFC Films, 12 January, w. Jean Reno, Jean Dujardin, Valeria Golino, François Berléand, Alice Taglioni, Eriq Ebouaney, Ciarán Hands, Jocelyn Quivrin
- Damages, Season 2, 2009, Sony, 12 January
- Halloween 2, 2009, d. Rob Zombie, Sony?, also on Blu-ray, 12 January
- Death in Love, 2008, d. Boaz Yakin, Screen Media, also on Blu-ray, 19 January, w. Jacqueline Bisset, Josh Lucas, Lukas Haas, Adam Brody
- Moscow, Belgium [Aanrijding in Moscou], 2008, d. Christophe Van Rompaey, Terra Entertainment, 26 January
- Profumo di donna [Scent of a Woman], 1974, d. Rino Risi, Hen's Tooth, 16 February
- The Alcove [L'alcova], 1984, d. Joe D'Amato, Severin, 23 February
- Blood on the Flat Track: The Rise of the Rat City Rollergirls, 2007, d. Lainy Bagwell, Lacey Leavitt, Strand, 23 February
- Examined Life, 2008, d. Astra Taylor, Zeitgeist, 23 February
- Power Play, 1978, d. Martyn Burke, Scorpion Releasing, 23 February, w. Peter O'Toole, Donald Pleasence, David Hemmings
- Trailer Park Boys: Countdown to Liquor Day, 2009, d. Mike Clattenburg, Screen Media, also on Blu-ray, 23 February
- The Vicious Kind, 2009, d. Lee Toland Krieger, Image, 23 February, w. Brittany Snow, J.K. Simmons, Adam Scott, Alex Frost

Hell on Earth

I would love to tell you whether Rob Zombie’s sort-of remake of John Carpenter’s horror classic Halloween was worth your time and money. I’d also love to tell you that I had a fun time watching it. But, this just isn’t the case. Instead, I got to endure my all-time worst theatre experience and, for the first time, actually asked for my money back. Rumor has it: the film blows, but would I know? Nope. Such rude distractions of stupid teenagers voicing, at a high volume, what they thought of what was transpiring onscreen and a real-life embodiment of Regina Hall’s Shakespeare in Love death scene in the first Scary Movie (unfortunately without the death) kept me from even processing what little I saw in front of me. Aesthetically, it’s exactly what you’d expect from a Rob Zombie remake; it’s smutty, greasy, and vulgar: a trailer-trash remake of a rather classy and scary original. But that’s all I can say.

I probably should be blaming myself for this fiasco, for I chose seeing a gore-fest on opening night at 9:30 pm at the teenyboppers’ mall instead of seeing Once with a bunch of Jewish old ladies on caffeine at the Landmark theatre. Neither sounded pleasing, but I made my decision, and it was the wrong one. So, I ask now, do people actually go to the theatre to see films any more? Or has the theatre-going experience turned into a $9-entry fee to your own fucking living room? I thought of telling the fifteen-year-old brats behind me that the Weinstein Company would be calling them later for work on the DVD commentary, but I decided a more concise “shut the fuck up” would fare better. Sometimes, I’ve found that the theatre experience can be a wonderful one, all with interruptions. When I saw A History of Violence, the film’s quieter moments were laughably offset by the roaring praise music of The Gospel, which was showing in the big theatre. When I saw Grindhouse, the other theatre patrons seemed to be enjoying the film as much as I was (except for the guy who didn’t get the memo that Planet Terror was only half of the film), and it actually felt nice. Now I wasn’t expecting church silence when going into Halloween, but it became my grudge that expecting common decency was a huge mistake.

I suppose I’m kind of glad that I avoided the crowds with both Neil Jordan’s The Brave One and Paul Greengrass’ The Bourne Ultimatum, two films I would have paid to see if I weren’t assigned to review them before their release. Sure, The Bourne Ultimatum was loud enough in parts that I might not have noticed a couple behind me asking each other who the bad guy was. But still. I guess I’ve learned my lesson the hard way… and I thought going to the DMV was tedious.

The Horror: Extended Edition

Grindhouse - dir. Robert Rodriguez, Quentin Tarantino, Rob Zombie, Edgar Wright, Eli Roth - 2007 - USA

Grindhouse, despite many reservations I may have had, provided what most exploitations only hinted toward: the meat. I’m sure plenty of critics have used the term “full-throttle” to describe one or both of the features within Grindhouse (as “full-throttle” is just as commonly thrown around in film “criticism” as “tour de force”), and for lack of any word to better convey the intensity of the films, I’ll reluctantly agree with said critics. Sure, there were plenty of sleaze fests from back in the day, but as I’ve stated in numerous other reviews, exploitation films, as quoted by a TLAVideo reviewer on the film Let Me Die a Woman, always seemed to provide the “sizzle” without the “meat.” And thankfully, two filmmakers, Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino, have blessed us with both in their ode to the grindhouse films of decades past.

The idea of separating the two from one another (in order to recuperate money that wasn’t received on its opening weekend) is a shame. Both Rodriguez’s Planet Terror and Tarantino’s Death Proof beautifully play off one another, despite being completely different films. Planet Terror is utter mayhem from the go-go dancing credit sequence to its absurd, utopian ending. Death Proof, however, takes its time, alienating certain viewers with its incessant long-take dialogue and Tarantino pop culture references. Yet, however you feel about the rest of the film, Death Proof provides the most exhilarating finale for not just the film, but the double-feature itself. The positioning of the films is almost as important as the films themselves, not to mention that both sort of play off one another. In Planet Terror, we hear a radio dedication to one of the characters in Death Proof, not to mention that Rose McGowan appears in both films as drastically different characters and Marley Shelton as the same one.

Among the few people who actually saw the film, I’m sure there’s a debate going around as to which is the superior of the two, and it’s all a matter of taste, really. It goes a bit deeper than whether you’re a zombie-freak or a fast-car aficionado. A preference is probably devised as to which method the directors take you would align yourself with. Planet Terror is about as faithful as you can get to a nuclear apocalypse film where zombies are taking over the world. The screenplay, by Rodriguez, would have probably been ranked as one of the more efficient and skilled (in a screenwriter sense) of the time, had it came out during said period. Everything obnoxiously and hilariously comes back in the end, from corny life lessons to disputes among characters, here involving a barbeque recipe. The script is so artless that it reaches a level of tongue-in-cheek beauty.

Death Proof, however, functions drastically differently. My friend Eric commented, “Tarantino’s dialogue is becoming worse and worse as his films continue, or I’m becoming less and less tolerant of it.” I think both responses are correct. I, personally, haven’t felt like Quentin Tarantino has ever really followed up Pulp Fiction; the tepid Jackie Brown and overrated Kill Bill series don’t so much feel like films in a respected filmography as just time-wasters, even though time wasting is what Tarantino does best in Death Proof. In hindsight, one realizes that Death Proof only exists for its final fifteen-minutes, an invigorating car chase sequence like no other. While some might complain that the rest of the film is nearly unnecessary, I’d have to disagree with caution. The talkiness isn’t merely a Tarantino motif, as it us intentionally unintentional suspense. There’s an overcast of fear and terror that runs throughout Death Proof and heightens with every silly talk-fest that is seemingly just taking us to the film’s stunning climax. When the film reaches its second act, there’s a real uneasiness about what is about to transpire. The excessive build-up to the game that stuntwoman Zoë Bell and Tracie Thoms want to play (“ship’s mast,” I think is what it was called) is both irritating and alarming. Their talking, which just fills the time to the game itself, makes for brilliant danger, almost as much as seeing the scene itself. I appreciate the long stretches of dialogue that seem to be about nothing, because it feels like an authentic exploitation film that wrote some semblance of a screenplay around a jolting car chase sequence. However, Tarantino tried his hardest not to make so much an exploitation film as a “Tarantino does exploitation” film. There are herds of annoying pop culture references, from Lindsay Lohan to an appreciation for the film Vanishing Point, that could have only come from Tarantino’s mouth. Sure, I snickered a little when Rosario Dawson tells her friends that her director boyfriend banged Daryl Hannah’s stand-in, but that doesn’t make up for Tarantino’s sheer lack of modesty.

Either way, Grindhouse stands alongside a few other films in recent memory as being exhaustingly entertaining, in ways movies so seldom are these days.

NOTE: Tarantino has admitted that Rose McGowan is his favorite actress (Brian De Palma concurs), and I can’t help but notice the odes to her other performances in both Planet Terror and Death Proof. In Planet Terror, Freddy Rodriguez comments that he loves the way Cherry (McGowan) says the word “fuck,” which (perhaps just for me) recalls some of her finer moments in Gregg Araki’s The Doom Generation, in which she barely utters a sentence without that word. My friend Dan suggested that her hideous blonde wig in Death Proof was also an homage to her role in Scream, where she, rather famously, gets her head smashed in a garage door because of the interference of her large chest.

NOTE 2: Though I loved both films, the finest moment of Grindhouse is easily (and I can’t think of many who will disagree) Eli Roth’s fake trailer for Thanksgiving. Makes you a little more excited about Hostel 2, doesn’t it?