notarepublican

The first time I caught this film, it was actually playing on TV one Halloween weekend in Southern California, probably sometime in the late 80s, early 90s. I was shocked, as I never anticipated I would be able to watch the film as it rarely played anywhere. The title alone was enough to initially keep me away as I couldn't imagine anything as gruesome as a killer wielding a chainsaw against his unsuspecting victims. What surprised me most was the realism added by the grainy footage and the quasi-Method performances. I should note that at this time I still clung to the belief that this film was in fact based on a true story (a belief to which many who watched it still adhere).

This film has everything that was right about American horror cinema in the 1970s. Marilyn Burns is absolutely brilliant, I don't think I've ever seen a female protagonist in this or any film since that conveyed her sense of absolute terror and dread. Before the horror cliché of the empowered female victim became widespread, Burns plays an infinitely more realistic variant, fighting and running not so much to defeat Leatherface and his kin as to simply escape with her life. And I can't remember any scene in any film as dreadful as the one in which the family assists Grandpa in attempting to brain her. That so little actual graphic violence is ever actually depicted speaks volumes of the films successfully twisted mood and direction.

Having lived in Texas for some time now, there is an added dimension of realism. Some isolated highways in this state (of which there are several) have several houses and service stations that resemble the ones featured in this movie. In particular, the drive between Houston and Austin via the 21 and 290 and the drive from Waco to Houston via the 6 and 290 are all too eerily familiar. Having made that drive many a night, I always made certain I had enough gas to drive through without stopping.

The 70s are often lauded as the era in which American cinema first reached the status of art as a new breed of director/auteur snatched the reins of film making from the old studio system. Lucas and Spielberg and the emergence of the modern blockbuster would mark the end of that era, as the corporatization of the movie industry would reshape the very rationale for filmmaking itself. The work of contemporary directors like Tarantino, Fincher, Smith, Favreau, etc. may now be categorized as a new cinematic form, one that self-consciously reflects an appreciation for film in all of its varied manifestations. While Coppola, et al honed their craft under Corman, their later work abandoned the simple forms of exploitation cinema. Tarantino, more than any of his contemporaries, found something to appreciate in all forms, and nowhere is that more evident than in "Kill Bill, Vol. 1." While his previous work embraced 70s film aesthetic, here Tarantino is wearing his heart and influences on his sleeve. "Kill Bill, Vol. 1" is a modern spaghetti western with heavy Asian influences. The film follows the path of revenge taken by a character referred to a both "The Bride" and "Black Mambo," her code name as a member of DiVAS (The Deadly Viper Assassination Squad). The DiVAS are a parallel universe version of Charlie's Angels, a genius conceit through which Tarantino also takes issue with modern cinematic violence. "KBV1" is one of the most violent major American films of all time, but its bloody aesthetic stands in sharp, unsanitized contrast with the modern film versions of "Charlie's Angels", where the protagonists often engage in bloodless unarmed combat, and violence is easily dismissed as something can occur without the benefit of permanent injury if not death. In some sense, the exaggerated gore in "KBV1" serves as a constant reminder that combat is rarely bloodless, and always injures someone, whether physically or spiritually. All this aside, I can't recall a more enjoyable time spent at the movies. The plot is crisp, the acting fantastic, and the action scenes are unbelievable. The back stories are alternately tragic and touching, with O-Ren Ishii origin story and The Bride's encounter with Hattori Hanzo being particular standouts. This is film as it should be, artfully constructed, without drawing attention to the often arbitrary distinctions between high and pop art. This film in particular forever shatters the significance of that distinction.