Death Proof

Death Proof, directed by Quentin Tarantino, is the other half of the Grindhouse double exploitation experience. The other half being Robert Rodriguez's Planet Terror. In it an aged stunt driver, played by Kurt Russel, stalks different groups of women in his souped-up muscle car, getting sick kicks out of their terror.

And, as stated, it is an intentional, old school exploitation film, so expect a lot of stereotypes, gore scenes, sexualization of women, drinking and smoking, and just all around extreme tastes. Think of what Tarantino usually does and then remove the slightest of filters he usually utilizes. And, if you like the style, this is definitely a film worth checking out.

That being said, it is curiously slow for an exploitation film. Tarantino is known for his lengthy, bizarre dialogue scenes, and nowhere is that more apparent than here. Granted, they are very good dialogues and these are all interesting characters, played by talented actors, but they're still as long as hunger years. Tone it down a bit, Quentin. We don't necessarily have to know the whole life story of every single character on the screen. Just saying.

But, it's not like I was bored. More morbidly fascinated by their length. And luckily the few action scenes the film has are really good. They're just as over the top, practically made and beautiful in their goriness as we've come to expect from Tarantino. No complaints there.

Death Proof is most probably the weakest film Quentin Tarantino has ever made. But, to paraphrase his own words, if this is the worst he's ever made, he's good. He's very good.