James Christopher at the Cannes Film Festival
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I can’t tell you how joyous it is to see such shameless trash in competition for the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival. Critics here are infinitely more familiar with a wrist-slittingly sincere masterpiece from Uzbekistan, so Quentin Tarantino’s black B-movie farce arrives like a breath of fresh air.
Kurt Russell plays a scar-faced psycho (styled on Burt Reynolds) called Stunt Man Mike. He stalks impossibly beautiful chicks with little brains and less morals. Then he frightens the life out of them by chasing them up and down empty highways in a souped-up monster car with a death’s head painted on the bonnet.
Tarantino's film is an eloquent lament for a sleazy age when drive-in movies were the norm and flea pits were tacky and smoky. Death Proof – so-called because Mike’s car seat is a reinforced cage – is painstakingly riddled with scratches, smudges, sudden jumps and vertical yellow lines. The sound quality – with the fabulous exception of the period juke box hits -- is terrible, and the continuity hysterical. The utter shoddiness of the film makes you exquisitely aware of how carefully it is assembled. But if you can't stomach the jokes, or reference the references, the film might leave you utterly cold.
Tarantino would be the first to admit that his is a very male kind of obsession. Once upon a time Death Proof was released in tandem with Robert Rodriguez’s Planet Terror under the title, Grindhouse, in America. The Weinstein Company and the directors rapidly agreed that the films would work better as separate items. So the famous “missing reel” featuring a sizzling lap dance has been restored to the delight of small boys.
But it would be wrong to write this film off simply as a sophisticated homage to the B-movie. It cleverly parodies a rich seam of classic road movies such as Vanishing Point, Duel and David Cronenberg’s Crash. There are also nods to cheesy television series and legends no one in their right mind would want to remember even if they could.
The cast themselves are in the know. They cheer roadside billboards, and at the end of one tense encounter, Russell turns to the camera and gives a large ludicrous smile. His first batch of victims include Vanessa Ferlito, Sydney Poitier (daughter of Sidney), Jordan Ladd (granddaughter of Alan), and Rose McGowan. The violence, when it comes, is a seminal piece of B-movie shock. The sight of a severed leg bouncing down the tarmac drew spontaneous applause from the Cannes audience.
Tarantino’s gravest sin is the wildly overwritten script. The appalling dialogue – mostly about the sexual predilections of the women and the various men they’ve slept with – is so badly garbled that it fails to make a relevant impact. The second-half action where Tracie Thoms, Rosario Dawson and Zoe Bell are out joy-riding in a 1970 Dodge Challenger (until Mike suddenly appears in the rear-view mirror) is far better worked. Tarantino’s fetish for naked feet is one of many running gags, and one entire reel is inexplicably shot in black and white.
I don’t think Tarantino will ever succeed in resurrecting a genre which, like most things in life, has moved irretrievably on. But you have to admire his dogged enthusiasm. There’s almost a piquant sense of loss and tragedy underlying the humour and homage in this film.
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An amazing movie.
I just loved this film. The "in" jokes & parodies were fast & clever & the continuity was beautifully crafted. The casting was excellent & the script ( including the sound quality ) was spot on.
Grab a big tub of popcorn, put your feet up & get ready to grin. Wonderful fun.
Ian, Northampton, England
Wow. I loved this film. I thought the dialogue was great. Very raw. The interaction between the women was great. Each female character was nicely developed and the film had a great pace. To each his/her own!
Miles, NYC, NY
For me Tarantino pushes the bar higher and higher. Five films (if you count Kill Bill 1 + 2 as one film), all increasingly more lurid, they challenge the viewers sense of right and wrong regarding movie content. Death Proof could be described as an anti-film, as so many conventions are broken, but herein lies the beauty of the piece. Filmgoers go to be entertained, usually in a formulaic way, so the many 'incorrectnesses' of DP stimulate discussion, dissent and review copy. It is a 'is he or isn't he' question, and my view is the Emperor is indeed wearing fine clothes
Gordon, Brighton, UK
Maybe I missed something but the movie was simply terrible. It had no plot, the actors couldn't act, I still cant' figure out if it was set in the 1970's or in present day (where did the cell phone come from??) The movie was a complete waste of time and simply ridiculous.
Sienna, Ohio,
It would seem QT is attepting to recreate the authentic grindhouse effect, by having lots of boring dialogue bookended by some trashy actons scenes. Unfortunately, the irony being -the dialogue IS boring.
That said , Russell holds the audiences attention whenever he is on screen, and clearly the actions scenes have been meticulously crafted. Especially the sound of those US muscle cars. Worth seeing for the final sequence:- an awesome car chase and hilarious ending.
3 out of 5.
Scunnered, Fife, Scotland
tarantino's best picture since pulp fiction. raw, stylish, unadulterated and pure evil. this stupid movie rocks. the soundtrack is fantastic too...
don't know why they called it "death proof" and not by the far superior french title "boulevard de la mort"...
stuntmanmike, Austin, Texas
As Grindhouse there was committment needed from a 'one box of popcorn' 21st century audience for a three hour session. Planet Terror was a director let loose in a digital fun house, Death Proof was Tarantino's obsessions laid bare for all to see - young care free women, smouldering close to the surface violence and a need for a film structure (unlike Rodirguez). Poitier is the star here, shame about the leg!
mitch, Kennett, SUFFOLK
A sick one.
Used to be Tarantino fan.
MM
MIKKO MONTONEN, Helsinki,
I can't wait until blacks or Jews are the target of such fictional violence (for being black or Jewish) and this reporter gushes how brilliant the film is. Oh, wait...that'd be callously bigoted. Good thing, Death Proof involves sexuality b/c obviously sex is immune to the intolerance or hatred of women.
No matter how you phrase it , you have to see women as dehumanized symbols to enjoy this film. Its popularity reflects how deep-seated such dehumanization is, which is made all the worse when such bigotry is emboldened by incorporating the tremendous power of sex. The sexualization of violent hate is no less alarming than the sanctification of violent hate by religious extremists. Both justify the status quo of brutal violent oppression.
Michael M., New York, USA
Why do we "have to admire his dogged enthusiasm" for making smirking, shock-jock-level, oh-so-knowing, in-joke movies with more wooden acting, but less characterisation and worse scripts than Thunderbirds? Hasn't the 'ironic retro-kitsch' seam been mined to death yet? Maybe it's just being female and therefore not laddish enough to 'get it', but I think he's a tedious overgrown adolescent, who has to make 'homages' to everyone else because he's got nothing interesting, funny or original of his own to say.
Rachida, Glasgow, Scotland
What is it with Tarantino and his footfetish!?
Adam Webb, MK, UK
US audiences didn't pay once - in fact, they didn't pay at all - hence the change.
Jack Thursby, Sheffield,
So because Grindhouse fails in the US the Weinstein's come up with the wizard idea of releasing the two films separately. What a marvellous marketing stroke, now they expect me to pay twice for these films where the US audience only paid once. I have a better idea; I won't bother seeing these films at all.
Martin Harrigan, Cambridge, UK