But instead of weighing the movie down, it lights a fire that gives the finished product a momentum that Tarantino hasn’t quite been able to match since.Īnd he hits the ground running, with a brief prologue that shows The Bride, played by Uma Thurman, lying on the ground, her face bruised and covered in blood, as she comes face-to-face with the titular character, played by David Carradine, though his face remains conspicuously absent throughout Kill Bill Vol. What it does do, quite brilliantly, is splatter the screen with stylized bloodletting, fueled by revenge with a capital “R.”įrom the now oft-quoted Klingon proverb that opens the film to its thrilling cliffhanger of an ending, the physical and emotional toll of retribution hovers over the film like a dark cloud. But set against the backdrop of desolate Texas expanses, neon-lit Tokyo locales, the suburbs of Pasadena and an Okinawan sushi restaurant, Kill Bill Vol. 2, tells a ferocious tale of single motherhood. Here was a filmmaker who could have easily stayed in his comfort zone of smart-alecky banter between dudes but instead chose to pare down his dialogue and flex his visual storytelling muscles to tell a story that, taken together with the more laconic Vol. 10, as I stared dumbfounded at the wide array of critical reaction as I scrolled down movie reviews on a computer. “It’s going to be insanely popular,” I told Clinton with naive confidence, unaware that Joe Moviegoer had other ideas. Two hours later, we emerged from the small auditorium, fascinated by the film’s visceral kick and dazzling use of mixed media. We raced down Sunset Boulevard to a screening room where they’d actually delayed the start of the screening a few minutes just for us. 10 release, when I waited at CNN’s Los Angeles bureau for the late Paul Clinton. ![]() Let’s rewind to a few days before its Oct. 1 did not open to universal praise than this critic. No one was more surprised that Kill Bill Vol. There were those who responded to his kinetic mix of East and West, and those left pining for either the profane wordplay of Pulp Fiction and the more down-to-earth humanism of his Elmore Leonard adaptation Jackie Brown. He did make that movie, but back in the fall of 2003 critics and audiences were split in twain, much like Tarantino himself chose to hack his movie in two halves. What if Quentin Tarantino made a movie that sliced off his best-known trademark? What if, instead of relying on verbose, richly cadenced monologues and stimulating banter, he honed his action movie chops while paying homage to the East Asian cinema that’s ubiquitous in his body of work’s DNA? ![]() Read the rest of our Filmmaker of the Month coverage of Tarantino here.) Given that July sees the release of Once Upon a Time in… Hollywood, the ninth film from Quentin Tarantino, we’re exploring the filmography of one of 20th-century cinema’s most breathlessly referential directors. (Every month, we at The Spool select a Filmmaker of the Month, honoring the life and works of influential auteurs with a singular voice, for good or ill.
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