Early Tarantino: '93 and '94

How long has it been since you watched yourself some early Tarantino?

I'm not a die-hard fan or anything, but I am currently writing a little something that involves Pulp Fiction, and while I have seen that film multiple times, I had never before seen two of Tarantino's early films, True Romance and Natural Born Killers, both of which he wrote (although QT told Rolling Stone back in 1994 that NBK had basically been rewritten by Oliver Stone, who directed). In any case, I watched both of these movies recently, and then I rewatched Pulp Fiction after reading an entire host of scholarly and critical readings of these films. I can't say that I totally enjoyed myself while doing this, but I offer some things I noticed while revisiting the early 1990s.

True Romance is a fun throwback to crime capers of old like Gun Crazy, except that this film was not made under the PCA. True Romance has a lot of great things about it, honestly, and I rather enjoyed myself.

Although everybody makes a big deal about Vincent Vega being in the bathroom for so many scenes in PF – Sharon Willis, for example, offers (and I don't totally disagree with her) that "the bathroom anchors a dense nexus that connects blood and violence to anal eroticism and smearing, that permits delicate intersections of aggressive soiling impulses with tense efforts to consolidate, to clean" – Tarantino uses exactly this same scenario in the final shootout in True Romance, in which Clarence White is in the bathroom talking to his mentor–Elvis when the Sicilians, the police, and the drug dealers all shoot each other. Indeed, Alabama kills James Gandolfini in the bathroom of the motel where they’re staying. The bathroom, to be sure, is not a standard location for crime films or for the well-made play (although there is at least one key scene in a bathroom in Point Blank), but the bathroom shows up rather a lot in Tarantino’s version of the gangster flick.

This film has just as much pop culture pastiche in it as the rest of them. The characters in TR cathect through pop culture. They fall in love by talking about movies, form relationships by discussing Elvis fandom (as Clarence does with a total stranger at one of the many burger joints he visits), and characters establish trust by trashing movies they both hate. The characters fall in love while talking about Sonny Chiba. They connect with one another not because they are particular people – we really know nothing about who Alabama is (except that she is from Tallahassee and is a call-girl) except that we know or think we know that she likes specific pop-culture products. In truth, I wouldn't even remember anymore which pop-culture products these characters liked unless I had made notes. I remember Sonny Chiba, of course, because he comes up again and again in QT's work, but the thing is that it doesn't much matter which objects these characters like; it's arbitrary.

* * *

Natural Born Killers is almost nothing like a Tarantino movie. It’s an enormous satire on television media. What is, perhaps, ironic about this is that, although this movie got pulverized for being some kind of indication of the way movies have just gone too far vis-à-vis violence, the film is, in fact, about television. It cites Married… with Children and those true crime shows explicitly.

This film is also vaguely Lynchian. It is like a fever dream half the time, and there is an entire subplot with Tom Sizemore that feels insane and as though Lynch himself might have directed it. (The function of this subplot is to establish that the cops are just as fucked up and perverse as the criminals, and it is worth noting that Tom Sizemore appears in both this movie and as a cop in True Romance.)

There is one similarity between NBK and PF – the phony backgrounds through which the cars drive. In both movies, it is obvious that the backgrounds are movie screens. This is, I would say, without thinking much about it, a kind of internal reference within the film, to the fact that the characters themselves understand themselves as stars of the films of their lives, to the way they make sense of their own worlds through movie-culture. These are characters who believe themselves to be characters.

Otherwise it is rather hard to believe that Tarantino even wrote this thing. It really has very few of his themes and (to my mind) showcases few of his obsessions. As much as NBK appears to be in on its own ironic jokes, I don't think it actually is. The irony all feels pretty forced here. It's as though someone who takes himself very seriously (Oliver Stone) is trying to loosen up a little.

I mostly hated this.

Oooo. But I liked Tommy Lee Jones. He was over-the-top and very funny.

* * *

I've seen PF a bunch of times, and I am actually writing about it for something that I want published, so I won't say too much here, but, two things:

Some critics have said that Vincent is really killed because he doesn't wash his hands. (We know he doesn't wash his hands because we "watc[h] [him] wash them" at Jimmie's house and he still turns the towel into a bloody mess.) If he had just washed his hands after using the bathroom at Butch's place, he would've given Butch time to get away, and the toaster pastries would have popped up earlier and wouldn't have surprised Butch. But as much as I agree that Vincent really should wash his hands, I think way too much has been made about Vincent in the bathroom. As I said above, the bathroom appears a lot in QT movies: Jules uses the bathroom as soon as they get to the bar in the prologue (which allows for Butch and Vincent to be alone together, and for Vincent to insult Butch by calling him Palooka) and Fabienne and Butch have an entire conversation in the bathroom – him in the shower, Fabienne brushing her teeth. And she brushes her teeth (and spits in the bathroom) again in the morning. Honey Bunny, too, announces that she needs to pee. None of these bathroom uses has to do with Vincent and his death. The bathroom is just a place that QT finds interesting for gangsters. Even professional criminals have to poop, it turns out. (If you want to think about how revolutionary this is, by the way, take a minute and imagine your favorite movie gangster pooping: James Cagney? Edward G. Robinson? Alain Delon? Jean-Paul Belmondo? Marcello Mastroianni? I'm having a hard time doing it.)

QT uses his someone-in-the-bathroom-while-a-shootout-is-happening thing twice in PF. It happens in True Romance, it happens at the house where Jules and Vincent kill the three boys, and then it happens again when Honey Bunny and Pumpkin hold up the Denny's or Spires or whatever it is.

"Let's go."

The women-with-bare-feet thing has not been given enough attention. Do you know about this? Mia wears no shoes for a majority of her scenes in the film, including during the dance. And the camera lingers directly on her feet before they go to Jackrabbit Slim’s while they're still at the apartment. But also there's this painting on the wall that QT commissioned especially for the movie with Uma Thurman as Mia on a sofa with her bare feet prominently displayed. And QT did interviews where he talked about her sexy feet. (Indeed, her feet are on display again in Kill Bill.) I've read about this in various places, but it isn't only Uma's feet that the camera loves in Pulp Fiction. Esmeralda Villalobos drives the cab with bare feet, and Fabienne is in bare feet for basically the whole film even though they are in a rather seedy-looking motel. So: I know that it is standard in film theory to spend all of our time talking about phalluses and castration, and that's all good and well. And it's also true that some other critics have tried to invert this by focusing on the film's economy of anality – Captain Koons hiding the watch up his ass, the rape in the pawn shop, Vincent taking a shit (twice), Jules's talk about Brett trying to "fuck" Marsellus – this is where all the bathroom talk starts actually to look quite important. But it seems to me that the film is much more interested in women's feet than either phalluses or anuses. (And yes I do know that a fetish is supposed to be a substitute for the phallus in Freudian thinking. I'm just noting that it's the fetish that has currency here and not the phallus itself.) Film theorists haven't spent a lot of time thinking about how a katana or a Louisville Slugger or a shotgun might signify a woman's foot – they're too busy seeing phalluses everywhere they look – but perhaps it's high time we started.

For me, Pulp Fiction mostly holds up – it's been 22 years since it came out! I still like the "Gold Watch" section the best, and the stuff with Samuel L. Jackson continues to be a highlight. But I also continue to be bored by the Mia Wallace section. I find that whole section so phony. Not that any of the dialogue seems natural because it doesn't, but the Mia Wallace section seems especially writerly or contrived or arch to me. I find that entire sequence to be bloated.

Related:
On The Hateful Eight.
On Django Unchained.

Ten Facts about Magic Mike

1. This film is directed by Steven Soderbergh not Bruce La Bruce. It is in no way pornographic. It is, in fact, hardly even prurient. With all of the lens flares, however, it does occasionally look like a film directed by J.J. Abrams.

2. Magic Mike is an unremarkably conventional narrative that involves an older "expert" teaching "the ropes" to a noob (this one is conventionally named "the kid"), whom he has "discovered". This narrative progresses precisely how you think it progresses. The expert begins to see himself in the noob. It's fun at first, of course, and then he sees how the young man is falling prey to this fast-and-loose lifestyle. He sees how this lifestyle will eat this boy alive and (what's more!) that it has already consumed the expert himself. But it's not too late! He will turn his life around. Make a change. You know the drill. Magic Mike, however, because of how well it is made, often feels like something other than the narrative I just described.

3. Is Magic Mike better than, say, a film like Savages? No, it isn't. Is it better than The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel? It is.

4. Channing Tatum is fantastic. He is so good. In a review of A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints once many years ago, I described a scene in which Channing Tatum made me gasp with a bit of acting he did. He did something similar in Magic Mike in two separate scenes. I think he is great in this.

5. Matthew McConaughey's singing in Magic Mike is, in all probability, better than Russell Crowe's in Les Misérables. You be the judge.

6. This film is kind of homophobic. I mean, there's a lot of bro stuff happening here. A lot of half-naked men around each other at all times. A lot of "I love you man"s being thrown around. None of them ever has sex with one another, of course, and none of them is into dudes or anything. The whole thing is queerly inflected, but none of it is ever actually queer. Not that I was hoping for some kind of "There's nowt as queer as folk" moment like the one in The Full Monty, but I was kind of expecting a little more queerness from the movie and a lot less "no homo" bullshit, which is there in spades.

7. I totally cried. Not till the end when Channing is crying, but still.

8. If I had to choose one of the guys, I'd go for Alex Pettyfer.

9. McConaughey is pretty good in this. He's always interesting, totally wild, and a bit unhinged, actually, when it comes down to it. Truth be told, the acting is fairly good across the board – particular kudos to Olivia Munn, whom I loved.

10. Hidden somewhere inside this film is a very interesting film about class, about the sex-service industry (which includes male strippers), about the shortage of livable wages in Florida, about the ways in which middle-class people pay working-class people to sell them their bodies in various ways, and about the ways in which the middle class then later excludes people who work in such industries from its own ranks. We don't want your cash, thank you so much; unfortunately it's all one dollar bills and we know where that money came from. Magic Mike is neither this conscientious nor this intelligent, but it is passable stuff.

In Old Arizona Redux

My friend Charlie has set himself a project. He is going to watch all of the Best Actor Oscar winners in order, starting with Emil Jannings in The Last Command up through Colin Firth in The King's Speech. He, of course, has already seen some of these, but I think most of them will be new to him.

I recently watched The Last Command myself, so we chatted about that recently and about the next movie on his list: In Old Arizona starring Warner Baxter. I saw the movie in 2005, so I don't really remember it very well, but I told him that In Old Arizona was one of the first sound films to be shot on location. It was rather a big deal because the technologies were brand new for recording sound in an unconfined space. Anyway, I had remembered that the movie was fine, or make that unmemorable. Today, however, I got a message from Charlie. 

Charlie: Okay... I started watching In Old Arizona the other day. I got about halfway through until I decided to take a nap instead. 

Me: Haha. 
Charlie: It's awful. Even Warner Baxter isn't good. I'm going to finish it, don't get me wrong. 
Me: Just 'cause it is an important movie doesn't mean it's gonna be a good one. 
Charlie: True. But i don't see why he got an Oscar for this! 

Me: Well... I mean, sometimes they want to award people for all sorts of things.
Charlie: I mean, I haven't seen the whole thing yet.
Me: I haven't seen any of his five opponents.
Charlie: I wouldn't want to.
Me: Haha. You really hate this movie! I didn't think it was that bad.
Charlie: I like his chemistry with the girl. It's the most believable.
Me: It's a very '20s movie if I recall correctly. 
Charlie: Oh yes. It's like a musical on film. Bleghhh

Me: And I seem to recall he has weird (i.e. bad) makeup.
Charlie: Yes. The mustache is so stupid.
Me: Does he sing? I can't remember.
Charlie: Yes, but not in a musical way. He sings in the bath tub. 

Me: well, AMPAS does love a song. 
Charlie: AMPAS?

Me: The academy. AMPAS loves a bathtub scene, too. Haha.
Charlie: Ohoh, I read your IM wrong. I thought it said "AMPAS does a love song."
Me: oh hahaha
Charlie: It was hardly a song though. He was just in the bath tub, singing. Anyway, I am not looking forward to finishing it, but I suppose I should just rip it off like a band-aid. At least Emil Jannings was good.
Me: It is short, no?
Charlie: 90 min or so.

Me: Well, you will probably not think much of Disraeli either. Should I warn you? 
Charlie: No, let me just realize my mistake while I'm watching it, knowing I need to watch every movie anyway.

Me: You will get to The Champ and be in love with Wallace Beery. So you have that to look forward to, at least. And A Free Soul is also really really good. If I remember right.
Charlie: They should all be really, really good! Or at least good.
Me: Well, they aren't, I'm sorry to tell you. Haha. There are plenty of Best Picture winners that I hate. No way around it.

Charlie: Why did they do this?? Was it because something about it was just revolutionary to the time? I don't see how actual words coming out of Warner Baxter's mouth can help his cause. If anything, it should hurt it.
Me: Hahah. You are so mad about it. Hahahahaha. This is amazing. Poor Warner Baxter.
Charlie: Haha. I'm glad you're enjoying this... at least someone likes something that's a result of In Old Arizona.
Me: I just spit my coffee out onto my desk. I'm posting this on my blog.
Charlie: Good. Tell the world. No. Warn the world. Warn is a better word. 
Me: You are putting me in an excellent mood.

Charlie: Haha well I'm glad, because this movie didn't put me in a good mood whatsoever. You must enjoy misery.
Me: I am laughing so hard right now. I really didn't remember it as that bad. I feel like a 90-minute movie can't really be as soul-crushing as you are describing it. It's not like it's Alexander or something.
Charlie: I'd tell you to watch it again to refresh your memory, but I REALLY don't think you should. Trust me, it's that bad.

Me: I just looked to see if I wrote a review of it in '05 when I watched it. I didn't. 
Charlie: Wow, shame on you. You should've told everyone how awful it was. Okay, again, I'm jumping ahead. I haven't seen the whole thing. I need to watch the whole thing and I'll tell you if I feel the same way or not. I doubt I'll change my mind though...
Me: Alright. Go watch the rest of this movie.
Charlie: This is only my second movie! I've got so many (bad) movies to go.

A Brief Dialogue on Adaptation

Julie: I don't know why I am just realizing this now, but: what the heck is Toy Story 3 adapted from? Just the original story idea? That seems lame. What are the rules for adapted screenplays?

Aaron: They are very wishy-washy. For example, a couple of years ago Before Sunset was nominated in the Adapted category but it was totally original. It was just a sequel. And yet, The Barbarian Invasions was nominated in the Original category: also a sequel. I think they are doing it stupidly.

Julie: Ew. The Academy needs to get its shit together, because this is silly.

Aaron: Right?? I mean Toy Story 3 is not based on anything; it has characters we recognize. So did fucking Nixon!!

Julie: Ahahahahahaha. Truth.

At All Costs, Avoid Alexander

And all of us said, "It's gotta be better than the trailer, right?" Wrong.
If you haven't seen Alexander yet, be wise, take my advice and stay away. Far away. As far away as you can. This movie is terrible.

I wanted so badly to like it. I knew Manohla Dargis had hated it. I thought, "Perhaps Manohla merely holds Oliver Stone to higher standards." No. Manohla was so, so right.

What an unholy, ungodly, awful, ridiculous mess of a film! I sat there wanting to cry or throw up or scream. It was so frustrating to watch. It had such promise. It looks so beautiful. The production is lavish and rich. The battle scenes are expertly filmed. The film stays true to the hero's homosexual affairs. But goddamit if there is not one scene with merit. No, I am unkind. There is a single, five or six minute battle sequence with Darius, the emperor of Persia about forty minutes into the film that is good. The rest is not just "okay," it is terrible. The inane dialogue and incomprehensible political discussions are not the film's main problems, either. The problems are the scenes: almost every one of them. Not one of them (save aforementioned six-minute battle sequence) serves any purpose at all. I kept wondering why I was watching what I was watching. I mean, why did he keep showing me such nonsense? If he was going to pick and choose which of the scenes of Alexander's life he was going to show us, why did he pick the ones he did? I don't think this will ever make sense to me.

The only character in this film who was nicely crafted was Angelina Jolie's Olympias, and I would say she was the best part of the film were it not that she had the most ridiculous Russian/Transylvanian accent. Jared Leto's Hephaistion is terribly written, though Leto seems to pull off something with the role. I did believe he loved Alexander, though I couldn't figure why. Poor Colin Farrell needs some voice work like nobody's business. I just don't know what he's doing in this movie. He tries yelling and crying and other things but nothing seems to come across the screen and hit me. Maybe he needs to do a play or something: play a supporting character in some low budget flick. I don't know.

Oh, and if you think you're going to see any nudity, think again. There is a very nice view of Rosario Dawson's breasts (and they are magnificent, I promise you), but that is it. Colin Farrell barely takes his shirt off that I can remember, and other skin is noticeably absent. There is a very dark shot of his ass, but let me tell you, three hours of suffering is not worth it.

Wahima said it best as we left the theater: Troy was more interesting. No shit.