Here we are with another contribution to watching the list of the AFI Top 100 (10th Anniversary Edition) in a calendar year. 66 to go in 3 1/2 months. That's a LOT of film, people. I may not make it. I'm going to try.
Film 34
34. "Pulp Fiction" (AFI Rank #94)
Well. This is awkward. I actually wrote up my thoughts on this film last year. I think the reviews I'm doing this year are better, more substantive, whatever...but this one is a little tricky.
I watched "Pulp Fiction" last night. I am a man. I've been required, because of the fact that I am a man, to have watched this film MANY, many times over the last 20 years. So. Last night, nothing particularly life-changing, nor particularly deep came across to me. I guess more than anything, I was struck by a sense of appreciation for just how good this film is...and then again...how much it has been romanticized as time has gone on.
As a follow up to his film "Reservoir Dogs," Quentin Tarantino was able to further establish himself as a voice that needed to be heard with this film. How he was able to nab not only John Travolta and Samuel L. Jackson (who, admittedly, became a MUCH bigger star after this film), but Christopher Walken, Uma Thurman, and Bruce Willis is beyond me. I've read the budget for the film was $8 million, of which, $5 million went to actor salaries. That Bruce Willis, who was a $20 million actor at the time, took so little money is pretty darned crazy. That Tarantino guy must have had something on the ball.
Well, he did.
What he crafted was a uniquely twisted piece of cinema, and one that showed off a lot of promise for a guy who used to clerk at a video store. Told out of sequence, the story of "Pulp Fiction" is fairly straightforward...kinda. It involves a lot of people that we actually care about, a lot of situations that we maybe shouldn't care about, and some of filmdom's more memorable quotes. "Say 'what' again, I dare you! I double dare you, motherfucker! Say 'what' one more god damned time!" Foul language, extreme violence, rape, hit men, a drug overdose, and a silly twist dance contest in a bizzaro world restaurant are all things that we witness in this film. And somehow, all of that, despite the fact that most of us cannot relate to any part of it...is compelling as hell to watch.
Why?
What is the great appeal of this film? Let's start with the acting. Samuel L. Jackson gives us more information about what is going to happen in a scene while drinking a Sprite than we should be able to glean. John Travolta's heroin filled haze is so realistic, so well played, that it's hard not to imagine that he's not actually Vincent. Harvey Keitel plays the cleaner so well that although he's barely in the film, we all know who The Wolf is. Throw in Eric Stoltz actually handling comedy, Rosanna Arquette being the shrieking harpy, Uma Thurman laying down just enough cool to make us really like a character that should be unlikable, and Bruce Willis, being Bruce Willis, only really put into vulnerable situations. The performances by everyone in this film are so honest, so real...that I haven't even mentioned two of the most natural actors in cinema, Amanda Plummer and Tim Roth. Nor did I mention Maria de Medeiros, whose Fabienne is the most believable portrayal of the bunch. Know what that is? That's a lot of damned characters, and if you've seen the film before, you know every one of their portrayals. That's old-school filmmaking. That's 70s style filmmaking. Lots and lots of characters, some of whom barely appear, but all of whom we connect with on some level, somehow. The acting in this film is tremendous. I wonder if that's Tarantino allowing those actors to do their jobs, or if it's a result of his passion...I can't tell. I know I've never enjoyed Travolta nor Jackson more than I do in this film.
What else works?
The shots are beautiful. There is a real skill in the visual presentation of the film, whether through lighting choices, close-ups, wide F-stop shots that blur the background, or whatever. You get the impression that this film was crafted, sometimes in the camera, in a way that required an attention to detail that is only seen with those who REALLY know what they are doing. That it was Tarantino's second film is astonishing. Check out the lighting on the scene when Mia gets the adrenaline shot. It's gorgeous to look at. Check out the moment when Marvin gets his head blown off. Check out camera angle in the Mexican standoff between Jules, Honey Bunny, Vincent, and Pumpkin. It's heady stuff. It makes us feel. That's what visual art is supposed to do for us. That film is not only a visual medium makes this icing on the cake.
Cannot talk about "Pulp Fiction" without mentioning the soundtrack. We get a groovy surf song during the credits that is interrupted and replaced with a different song...and we don't think anything of it. Urge Overkill's cover of Neil Diamond's "Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon" somehow doesn't seem at all out of place with Dusty Springfield's "Son of a Preacher Man," nor with the Statler Brothers' "Flowers on the Wall." The soundtrack fuels "Pulp Fiction," because it is obvious that the creator REALLY likes his music.
Also. The film is much less grotesque with its violence than its predecessor, "Reservoir Dogs," and certainly WAY less than what I consider the best Tarantino film(s) I've seen, "Kill Bill." Yet, we believe we saw a lot of really violent stuff. Really, the most violent sequence to me, and the one that probably hits closest to home because it feels like it could actually happen, is the drug overdose, and the resulting adrenaline shot. There's a realism in that sequence that we don't necessarily see in the rest of the film. I can't imagine a pawn shop with a chained up gimp in the basement and a rapist security officer friend could stay open past the first day of business. But, you know, it works.
Now. What don't I like?
I hate, hate, HATE the Christopher Walken sequence. I don't think it's funny, nor do I think it helps the film. It reminds me of the end of "A Mighty Wind," when the cheap joke of having Harry Shearer transitioning into being a woman is meant to be funny. In a film of high comedy, why throw in a sequence about a watch being stowed up someone's ass for 7 years? That's not funny, it's not even funny in an abstract way, and it adds nothing. This scene, by itself, knocks the film out of "ALL TIME GREATEST" consideration for me. Without it, maybe we can talk. With it...forget it. It's indulgent crap.
I also hate Tarantino's dialogue as Jimmie. I'm not sure that gets better in the hands of a skilled actor, but he seems to have saved the worst lines in the film for himself. Maybe, just maybe, it's because of how bad he is at it...but I don't know. It's bad. Really bad.
So. Know what you should do? You should watch "Pulp Fiction" again some time. It's great, if flawed, filmmaking.
Ebert focused on the structure a bit more than I did, but his observations are spot on. Notice he doesn't do much more than mention the scene with Walken. I'd love to have been able to chat with him about its merit in the film.
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