Grindhouse

Posted by Clayton L. White (stinky_booties@hotmail.com) on April 8, 2007

You’ve seen the trailers, you’ve heard the hype, you know you want to see it. Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino have arrived with their double feature homage to the trash filled exploitation films of the ’70’s. My advice to you is to give in. Don’t try to avoid it, don’t stay away. Pay your eleven bucks, sit back, and enjoy. This is one of the liveliest films I’ve seen in a while, and I recommend it highly.

I’ve been hard on these two guys in the past. I think Rodriguez is a clumsy, juvenile director who really doesn’t grasp the basics of filmmaking. His stuff is a mess, it always has been, and it probably always will be. Tarantino has the more obvious talent of the two. He is films are always entertaining, but they’re nowhere near as great as many like to think. He relies too much on his knowledge of other films, and he doesn’t even make an attempt to be original. For all my complaints of these two individuals, I can honestly say that I will be keeping shut for a while. Right now, my foot is planted firmly in my mouth, and I couldn’t be happier. Grindhouse brings out the best in both of these directors, and it’s a marvel to behold.

First up is Rodriguez’s Planet Terror, a typical run of the mill zombie plot that gives Rodriguez all the excuses he needs to have one dimensional characters, cheesy dialogue, and fast paced action. Not only do we get puss filled zombies, we get a scantily clad Rose McGowan as Cherry Darling, a stripper who aspires for a better life. She loses her leg at the hands (or mouths) of the zombies, and with the help of her mysterious ex-flame Wray (Freddy Rodriguez), he eventually straps a machine gun onto her stump and tears ass through zombieville. On top of all this we get Josh Brolin chewing on thermometers as Dr. Block, and Marley Shelton as his needle wielding wife. Throw in a dash of Bruce Willis as a military big cheese, Michael Biehn as the local sheriff, and the obligatory cameo from Tom Savini, and you have an epitome of a zombie film. Rodriguez borrows from John Carpenter’s Assault on Precinct 13, as well as every movie ever made by George Romero (Dawn of the Dead), and comes up with his best career best work.

Even though Rodriguez has improved in many ways, his film still suffers a bit. It runs about ten minutes too long, and it has the normal self serving cameo from Tarantino that throws the entire thing off. I know these guys are having a fun time, but ease up already. The scratches and damage to the print help to enhance the experience of those grindhouse pictures of yore, while the “missing reel” sequence is timed brilliantly. On the downside, Rodriguez may worship at the feet of Romero, but he’s nowhere near as sophisticated. Romero may have made fairly cheap horror films, but he always had a purpose. His films were comments on our society, and they were used to expose deeper truths about ourselves. Let us not forget that Romero was the first director to give a heroic role in a horror film to an African-American. Rodriguez can imitate the feeling and the production values, but he can’t reproduce Romero’s talent, and that is his ultimate downfall. With Romero we go deeper, with Rodriguez it’s all surface. No matter. A pole dancing McGowan and a ninja badass Freddy Rodriguez take the film higher than it deserves.

Next up we get to the real goods, Tarantino’s Death Proof. This is where you really get your money’s worth. Rodriguez’s film was enjoyable, and a good time killer, but Tarantino’s is a masterpiece. I would venture to say that this is the best film he’s made so far, and it’s one you’ll never forget. Tarantino loosely borrows his structure from Hitchcock’s Psycho by introducing us to a group of characters that we slowly get to know and care for before he lays them to waste and introduces to a completely new group. It’s a tactic that works extremely well for him. The first group is four girls who are simply driving around Austin, Texas. They stop at a bar and continue to drink until closing time. While there they meet a man named Stuntman Mike (Kurt Russell), who has promised to give the local hippie (McGowan again, this time in a blond wig) a ride home. Stuntman Mike is exactly what you would think, a stuntman with a big scar who drives a 1971 Chevy Nova. The car is “100% Death Proof” according to Mike, and before long we see what he means. After laying waste to McGowan, Mike tracks down the four girls and continues to wreck havoc. This is an amazingly violent sequence that Tarantino shows us from four different angles. It reminded a little of something out of a Peckinpah movie, and it was just as good. After recovering from the crash, Mike sets his sights on a fresh group of girls who are working on a local movie set. Rosario Dawson is a bit annoying, as usual, as the make-up artist, while Tracie Thoms (Rent) excels as Kim. Watch out for Zoe Bell, though, she’s a hellcat. Bell is a stuntwoman from New Zealand who doubled for Uma Thurman in Kill Bill, but she asserts herself extremely well as an actress. Sure, it helps that she’s playing a stuntwoman named Zoe from New Zealand, but she’s charming, witty, spunky, and extremely natural. She has an infectious personality that grabs you instantly. Mike begins chasing these women, but never expects that they might fight back. What results from this is one of the greatest car chases I’ve ever seen. Perfectly choreographed, and extremely real. This is all heightened by the fact that you know, without a doubt, that Bell is really hanging onto the hood of a moving car.

Tarantino’s film is not perfect. Cameos from Tarantino and Eli Roth really try the patience, but they only last for a short while, and Tarantino the filmmaker never lets them get in the way of his story. Tarantino follows Rodriguez’s suit by serving as his own cinematographer, and he does a good job, but I was pining for the style that the great Robert Richardson brought to Kill Bill. The fact that Tarantino insisted on shooting on film, while Rodriguez kept his digital, does help matters. We get another missing reel in Death Proof, as well as the damaged print, but Tarantino gets this stuff out of the way quickly, choosing to focus more on creating his own entity. In the past he has let his homages/rip-offs run rampant, but I felt that he pulled in the reigns here, and really let his own imagination cut loose. Sure, it’s a typical B-grade story, but it’s executed so precisely that you won’t mind. Many have compalined that this segment is too slow, I disagree. It takes it’s time, and build steadily to impact. The car is a bit like a film crash itself. We are laughing, having a good time, when out of nowhere we get a violent assault to the senses. I loved every minute of it.

As if these films weren’t enough, we get four fake trailers to keep us in the spirit of things. Rodriguez’s Machete starts the film, and it perfectly sets the tone. After Planet Terror, we get the other three. Rob Zombie’s Werewolf Women of the S.S is a mildly amusing excursion that gets a big boost from a certain A-list actore. Edgar Wright (Shaun if the Dead) has the best of the bunch with Don’t, a hilarious two minutes of brilliance that I could watch over and over. The last, and certainly the least, is Hostel director Eli Roth’s Thanksgiving. It starts out funny, but then crosses the line, emerging as a horrible exercise in bad taste. Grindhouse is further proof that Roth is just as bad in front of the camera as he is behind it. He’s sick, he’s degrading, and he’s talentless, but he can’t ruin the good vibes that everyone else gives off in this film.

The acting is adequate frome everyone involved. McGowan is not a great actress, but she wasn’t hired to be, and she does what she has too. Marley Shelton and Josh Brolin are perfect in Planet Terror, while Freddy Rodriguez does a good job of acting like he’s a terrible actor. It’s a good role for him, and I’m glad to see that he has a career outside television. Death Proof is filled with great performances. From Bell to Sydney Tamiia Poitier, from Vanessa Ferlito to Mary Elizabeth Winstead, all the girls are note perfect, but it’s Russell who comes out the big winner. After establishing himself in John Carpenter’s own grindhouse flicks, such as Escape from New York, Russell has been impressive in all of his roles, even though most of them were below him. With Tarantino’s script, however, Russell cuts loose and gives us what may be Tarantino’s best creation. A character who is charming, frightening, and ultimately pathetic. This is a performance for the books, and Russell knows it. Snake Plissken who? I know it won’t happen, but I love for the Academy to take notice of Russell here, he is that good.

One good film and one great one for the price of one. No matter what, you can’t beat it. It’s not often that I admit my own faults, and I don’t regret the things I’ve said about Rodriguez and Tarantino in the past, but next time I think of dismissing these two, I will certainly hesitate. This is a phenomenal experience. It’s not art, that’s for sure, but who cares, it’s a hell of a good time.

Read more articles by Clayton L. White