Special guest review by Pirate Hunter

If you’ve read some of my other reviews you probably know that I’m not a fan of Quentin Tarantino’s work. I’ve always felt he was a voiceless filmmaker who used the guise of homage to hide his lack of real vision. It’s my opinion that Tarantino’s long-time friend and Grindhouse counterpart, Robert Rodriguez, is just the opposite. He may not be the most coherent auteur, but I feel his influences fuel his artistic visions instead of owning them. Rodriguez is also a technical innovator, helping to usher in the age of high definition filming, as well as many other progressive techniques.

That said, I’ve actually been looking forward to Grindhouse, because this will be the first time Tarantino can openly “borrow” from his disreputable influences without it being an issue. I mean, the film is called Grindhouse. I might have appreciated Kill Bill more if it had been titled “Kung Fu Movies I liked.”

Now, before we proceed any further, it’s important that you understand what you’re in for. This is first and foremost a tribute picture to a cinematic culture that, for the most part, has gone the way of the dodo. Grindhouse films were celebrations of violence, exploitation and above all, extreme gratuitousness. I don’t give them the cinematic credit that some others do. I mean, these films didn’t have the impact of say, Taxi Driver, but they were an important part of cinema history and their influence is, obviously, still felt with today’s filmmakers.

The most amusing irony of Grindhouse is the fact that the 18-screen multiplex in which I was seeing it, would never in a million years actually show a real grindhouse picture. That notion made me smile as the real trailers played. Then, the lights dimmed, the projector aged 30 years, and this same auditorium where I saw Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, became a den of depravity as the faux trailers began.

Rodriquez takes the first feature on this double-bill. A zombie-ish, bio-nightmare titled Planet Terror. Rodriguez was quoted as saying that he wanted to find an iconic image for his segment. Go-Go dancer Cherry Darling (Rose McGowan) and her machine gun leg became that image—and what a cool image it is! Cherry is a great character, and the most rounded in the entire production. McGowan turns in a wonderfully cheeky performance. You could tell she was having a blast.

Planet Terror’s plot is kind of irrelevant, but for the sake of review: a bio-chemical weapon is unleashed that turns the simple townsfolk into mutant, flesh-craving zombies. It’s up to Cherry, a band of survivors, and Cherry’s mysterious ex-boyfriend, El Wray (Freddy Rodriquez), to save the day. There are almost constant dismemberings, explosions, decapitations and other forms of creative blood-bathery in this film, but make no mistake, Planet Terror is a comedy. I laughed through every one of these horrific scenes and reveled in the sheer lack of responsibility displayed on-screen. If I had to come up with a criticism, I’d say that I thought the film leaned too much towards farce, but not enough that I was bothered.

After a few more faux trailers, Tarantino’s segment begins. A high-octane thrill ride called Death Proof. The film is about a homicidal, ex-stuntman named, of course, Stuntman Mike. Mike chooses victims (young girls) to take for a ride his in vintage Dodge muscle car, but there’s a catch, the car is only “death proof” if you’re sitting in the driver’s seat. Jack Burton himself, Kurt Russell, plays Stuntman Mike with brilliant wit. Rounding out the cast is Sydney Poitier (daughter of Sidney), Vanessa Ferlito, real-life stuntwoman Zoe Bell, and one of my personal favorites, Rosario Dawson.

I tried really hard to not view the film with my Tarantino reservations, but as soon as it began, I couldn’t help but notice all of the little things he does that perturb me. For example, in almost every interior scene, the homes, bars and restaurants the characters inhabit are littered with movie posters. The characters also drop almost non-stop references to other films (including a few of his influences for Death Proof). I don’t mind a good film reference, but have some restraint! Tarantino is simply too literal and too blunt with his tributes for my taste.

The first half of the segment is actually a bit slow. At times, I was beginning to get bored with the seemingly endless exposition. Tarantino does, at times, have a flare for dialogue, but this was pushing it even for him. (He would have better served this work if he had recalled his less stilted script for From Dusk Till Dawn) To my surprise, however, Death Proof ended up fooling me in the end. Once I figured out where he was going, I felt like a naughty cineaste for being so impatient. I hate to say it, but even with my aforementioned issues, Tarantino really nailed it. Although I still enjoyed Rodriquez’ segment more, Tarantino’s is probably the truer of the two, at least to the idea of what grindhouse cinema was. As a filmmaker, though, I still think Tarantino isn’t much more than sum of his influences.

Death Proof also marks the first time Tarantino has acted as his own director of photography (Rodriquez is an old hat). His camera work was actually very good, especially the car chase scenes. I almost wish I had disliked his segment so I could make a joke about preferring him in that role. I will say that the one thing that kept the film from earning a perfect score was, in fact, Tarantino. He has small roles in each segment and, like M. Night Shyamalan, I find his presence distracting. He’s also a lousy actor. Even in a film brimming with intentional B-movie acting and no-talents like Fergie, he stands out. Sorry, QT.

To complete this collaborative vision, digital “curing” was done to the films. They added pops, cracks, scratches, tears, warping, color-fades and, of course, “Missing Reel” frames (which may be a dig at the MPAA for forcing edits). These purposeful degradations, as well as the hilarious intermission content, added a whole other level of fun to the film—and a great sense of shoddy-authenticity.

Those looking to Grindhouse to push the limits of current cinema may be a little disappointed. I wouldn’t say that Grindhouse plays it safe, but it’s not I Spit on Your Grave either. Most of the violence comes off more comical than brutal, so slasher movie enthusiasts who don’t like the tongue-in-cheek vibe may also leave unfulfilled. However, if you have even a remote appreciation for (now, in your best trailer guy voice) sexy-but-deadly ladies, fast cars, edge-of-your-seat action, and all the blood and guts you can handle… then dare to enter the Grindhouse! 8/10

Special thanks to Zombie Order Member Pirate Hunter for writing this review and providing images.