A Unified Theory of Tarantino



Pretty entertaining short, but is this anything new? As a big fan of the video store clerk from Tennessee who influenced a generation, I appreciate that somebody actually went to the trouble of outlining and organizing every observation, stray thought and half-formulated theory that me, my friends and a legion of other drunken guys of my generation came up with in our rec rooms over a few beers.

Tarantino movies have been dissected to death by every movie geek who came of age in the nineties, so none of this is new. Tarantino is the fountainhead for post-eighties cinema, and will probably be remembered as a towering figure in the history of filmaking. That being said, however, I'm beginning to see that the law of diminishing returns applies even in the case of the guy who wrote and directed possibly the coolest film ever committed to celluloid.

I just saw Grindhouse and, it pains me to write this, Deathproof got tedious.

Not the whole thing, of course. QT is still too dynamic and imaginative to ever descend to hack-like levels of mediocrity, but it still feels lazy.

We know the formula by now... Cast one iconic, slightly-past-his-best-before-date genre actor as a lead character: Keitel, Travolta, Carradine, and in this case, Snake Plissken himself, Kurt Russell; surround with compelling, quirky supporting cast, preferably including at least one or two hot women (this flick has several babes-du-jour); be really self-referrential by casting people who have appeared in other Tarantino/Rodriguez movies as similar yet-not identical characters (step forward Rose McGowa, star of Rodriguez Grindhouse entry Planet Terror ), and insert liberal amounts of violence, genre aesthetics, pop culture references, and signature Tarantino Dialogue. Why screw with the formula? It works .

Except, this time, it didn't.

Not for me. Not completely, anyway.

If you are going to make the kind of dialogue-heavy movies that QT makes, you better make sure the dialogue is up to snuff. If it ain't, the talky bits can be a bit much. For the first time, I found myself viewing a Tarantino movie and thinking "Get on with it, already!". I watched in dismay as Tarantino descended into self-parody, with absurd parabolic profanity-laced riffs that contributed nothing to the plot and went absolutely nowhere. It wasn't that the characters were badly-written, it was more that at times they seemed to be working to arrest the plot, rather than propel it forward. Of course, this being Tarantino, he did manage to redeem himself with virtuoso action set-pieces and some compelling character work from Kurt Russell, among others, so the movie is still very much worth seeing, especially the parts where Stuntman Mike is onscreen.

It becomes very clear when you watch the Grindhouse special features on DVD that Quentin is a man still very much enthused and besotted by film and the art of filmmaking. I trust that for his next work --supposedly the long-awaited Inglorious Bastards, Tarantino will recover his footing and deliver a war flick that will cement his place among the giants of contemporary cinema.

Empty Suit in Need of Filling

Terrence Corcoran thinks November is a long time from now. Now that he is the frontrunner for the Democratic nomination, very soon Obama is going to begin to come under much heavier fire, and eventually his followers won't be able to just shrug it off and go right back to spewing their same old vague platitudes about "change" and "inspiring people" --the kind of thing I have really enjoyed, since it has usually led to steam shooting out of both Bill and Hillary's ears. The continue to look on, incredulously, as everything they toss at Obama just slides right off of the media-applied teflon coating. By the time Hillary's run ends, both Clintons should be certifiable.

Already, there are signs that the honeymoon is over. Barry Obama's wife is taking hits for saying that for the first time in her adult lifetime, she is proud of her country and for whining about the student loans that paid for the ivy-league educations that enable her and her hubby to make a nice fat six-figure salaries. Even some of his acolytes have been forced to come to terms with the fact that he is not Jesus. Check out erstwhile Obama fluffer Chris Matthews beat the piss out of Kirk Watson



Embarrassing. Chris Matthews did the Obama campaign a favour. He gave them a bit of a preview of what is rolling on down the road towards them as the Republicans coalesce around their man and load up the rocketlaunchers. They better hand out some meatier talking points or else prevent starry-eyed goofballs like this from championing their man in the media.

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After all the craziness of the Kinsella/Levant Blogwar of 2008, which I'm not going to rehash here, it is great to read something so genuinely thought provoking on such an important topic like this piece from Andrew Potter. On a not-entirely-unrelated subject....

In Slate, Christopher Hitchens does one of his trademark imolations on another religious target, and on this occasion I can't help but agree with his disdain for the Archbishop of Canterbury. Because what the Archbishop said was a disgrace :

just look at how casually this sheep-faced English cleric throws away the work of centuries of civilization:

[A]n approach to law which simply said "there's one law for everybody and that's all there is to be said, and anything else that commands your loyalty or allegiance is completely irrelevant in the processes of the courts"—I think that's a bit of a danger.

In the midst of this dismal verbiage and euphemism, the plain statement—"There's one law for everybody and that's all there is to be said"—still stands out like a diamond in a dunghill. It stands out precisely because it is said simply, and because its essential grandeur is intelligible to everybody. Its principles ought to be just as intelligible and accessible to those who don't yet speak English, in just the same way as the great Lord Mansfield once ruled that, wherever someone might have been born, and whatever he had been through, he could not be subject to slavery once he had set foot on English soil. Simple enough? For the women who are the principal prey of the sharia system, it is often only when they are shipped or flown to Britain that their true miseries begin. This modern disgrace is deepened and extended by a fatuous cleric who, presiding over an increasingly emaciated and schismatic and irrelevant church, nonetheless maintains that any faith is better than none at all.

Williams should really consider giving up his position as putative head of the Anglican Communion.