>>REVIEW
GRINDHOUSE
STARRING: Rose McGowan, Freddy Rodriguez, Josh Brolin, Bruce Willis, Kurt Russell and Rosario Dawson
DIRECTED BY Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino
Opens Friday, April 6
Check listings
In keeping with the spirit and tradition of grindhouse cinema (a double feature of exploitation films containing excessive sex, violence and horror) – Bryn Evans and I have decided to write a Grindhouse double review.
Desensitized by years of watching brutal violence on the big-screen and fans of both directors (Robert Rodriguez – Once Upon a Time in Mexico, Sin City and Quentin Tarantino – Pulp Fiction, Kill Bill 1 and 2), the idea of being visually assaulted for three hours for this double-your-fun action adventure was too hard to resist.
Evans, a fan of Rodriguez’s flashy style and gore jumped at the chance to review Planet Terror. I’m a fan of Tarantino’s snappy dialogue, quick-cuts and attention deficit approach to filmmaking and needed little coaxing to gear up for Death Proof.
Rodriguez and Tarantino bring back the drive-in experience by including fake movie trailers by guest directors. In the end, the trailer idea acted as a well-deserved break between the two intense films, enabling the audience to take a breath and prepare for the second feature.
PLANET TERROR
Robert Rodriguez launches right into the sleazy mayhem. Cherry (Rose McGowan), a stripper with ambitions to become a standup comedian, is pitted against a zombie infestation. Seems the army accidentally leaked a deadly biological weapon into the Texas countryside, turning its inhabitants into pus-filled nightmares, tearing limbs and squirting bodily fluid.
There’s buckets of gore, explosions, plenty of barbecue and, of course, McGowan’s machine-gun leg. But it’s Rodriguez’s slapstick sequences and hilarious dialogue that drive the film, not to mention the actors – Jeff Fahey, Michael Biehn, Josh Brolin and Tom Savini – who dig into the roles with menace and humour.
It’s everything a zombie movie should be – a bumbling bureaucracy responsible for the chaos, cops and criminals forced to defend each other, and the last stand, with the survivors pitted against a horde of monsters and the impending apocalypse. The movie is so full of detail – scratches on film, jumped frames, missing reels – that it deserves a second viewing just to catch it all.
What generated the most fanboy glee was the trailers – four of them, one each by Rodiguez (Machete), Rob Zombie (Werewolf Women of the SS), Edgar Wright (Don’t) and Eli Roth (Thanksgiving). In getting closest to the esthetic of B-movies, the trailers work best, particularly Roth’s hilarious and gross Thanksgiving (it uses the score from Creepshow, which is too cool!). Which leads to what I thought was the weaker half, Tarantino’s Death Proof.
DEATH PROOF
While the pacing of the film was there, admittedly the first half of Death Proof is pretty dull – even while staying true to its ’70s car-chase roots, it makes for a better idea than an actual movie. The more modern of the double-feature, it lacked the charm and thrill of the earlier segment or trailers. Without the ’70s schlock esthetic, the film seems a bit out of place, however, what saves it from its own self-indulgence is stuntwoman Zoe Bell’s amazing choreographed acrobatics on the hood of a Challenger.
Kurt Russell plays Stuntman Mike, a psychopath who kills women with his muscle car. Hilarious and terrifying, Russell chews up the screen with his over-the-top performance and makes the most of his character. While Tarantino is often criticized for liberally "borrowing" from movies and then "reformatting" them for his own use, the story of Death Proof manages to keep you riveted as the action (and violence) progresses. While the dialogue between characters can get a little tiring, it acts as a good set-up for the heart-pounding final car chase. In other Tarantino films, the dialogue takes centre stage, however in Death Proof it is utilized as a pause before the main action sequence. Is there a plot? Nope. Character development? Nada. The acting is almost an afterthought to the amazing stunt driving.
Tarantino highlights an especially gory scene by repeating one of the car crashes several times at different angles, creating a virtual blood bath. Although Tarantino can suffer from his need to self-promote, especially when it comes to onscreen cameos (he has two in Grindhouse), he does, in his odd way love women. Sure, they may be in halter tops and short skirts, but his appreciation of a woman’s power is endearing. (OK, endearing in a creepy-dude-in-a-trenchcoat way, but still.)
Because it’s so self-aware and a homage, Grindhouse works best as a double feature, with each segment playing off the other. It’s fun, gross, completely unrealistic and probably one of the most original films of recent memory. Sure, it’s a gimmick, but it allows the directors to play with cinema in whole new ways, and that freedom can be seen in each frame. The best part of the film is watching it all unfold.
Overall, as a film experience, it’s probably as much fun as you can have in a dark room with your clothes on. |
Copyright ©2007 FFWD. All rights reserved.