Boulevard de la mort

In 2007, Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez joined forces to create the Grindhouse film experience: a double feature intended to emulate the thrilling grittiness and distinctive roughness of 1970s exploitation cinema.

Tarantino's contribution to the Grindhouse project is Death Proof: a weird combination of car-chase action and serial-killer terror. If nothing else, Death Proof does everything that Tarantino loves doing. It has characters who act really cool, always talking with sharp wit and dirty language. It has wild camera work, including some slick black-and-white shots and shots intentionally damaged to give everything a rough, old-fashioned texture. It has an abundance of oldies rock 'n roll, it has oodles of references to other films (including some references to Tarantino's own Pulp Fiction and Kill Bill). It even has dozens of foot-fetish shots, with barefoot characters strutting around, shoving their feet into the camera. And, of course, there's also plenty of pulpy blood and violence to satisfy.

The film has its share of cool parts and sharp dialogue. The last act is most worthwhile for its phenomenal car chase scene. It lasts for a good twenty minutes or so, featuring a pair of great muscle cars, ripping up the roads before ripping each other up. It's all intended to replicate the look, feel, and excitement of old-fashioned car chase films, such as Vanishing Point (which is referenced in the film, and the film even uses the same car).

The problem is, however, is that when the film isn't cool, it's totally uncool. In between the big standout scenes, the film drags a lot. A lot of time is spent on the characters hanging out at bars and restaurants, chatting inanely, and often times without progressing the plot all that much. These scenes still have a few standout scenes (such as the saucy lapdance scene), but a lot of it comes off as pointless.

The story is also pretty weird and mixed. It's essentially split in half, with some scenes set in the past and some set in the present. It's all intended to focus on the main villain stalking two different sets of victims, and the film takes its (damn) time to set things up for the big car wreck scenes. It also takes its time to dive deeply into the characters. Unfortunately, the pacing takes a huge hit in doing so, and the film overall feels uneven.

Fortunately, the film remains cool and slick, with fantastic photography and editing. Scenes set in the past have been scratched-up and damaged on purpose to replicate that old-fashioned 1970s film look, and it is pretty wild that way. Acting is quite appealing from the cast; especially from Kurt Russell, playing the bad guy for a change, and he is strikingly effective as Stuntman Mike. Writing is very sharp and witty, although not always effective. This production uses some very cool and distinctive sets, props, costumes, and cars. Music is really neat too.

The film is pure Tarantino, and I can't help but to think that the man must have had too much fun making this picture, because it encompasses all of his signature trademarks. Unfortunately, it's also quite a mixed experience that's not always palatable. Fans should check it out and see what they think, and it's recommended as part of the Grindhouse double-feature experience, but otherwise it's best left as a rental if you're interested.

3.5/5 (Entertainment: Average | Story: Pretty Good | Film: Good)

It all started as an homage to old exploitation cinema and double feature screenings. It was meant to be one of the most shamelessly entertaining films of the year. Sadly, after flopping in the US, Grindhouse has been chopped in two, with Quentin Tarantino's segment, Death Proof, being the first to be released on its own after competing at the Cannes Film Festival. It is not presented in its Grindhouse version, which included scratches, dirt, missing reels and other visual aging techniques; instead, we get the full cut, containing additional information regarding certain plot points and a few "juicy" bits that were left out first time around (a hot lap dance being the best new scene). And while it certainly would be fun to see the entire double-bill in all its glory (hopefully it will get a worldwide DVD release), I must say I really enjoyed QT's half as a separate picture.

As this is intended to be Tarantino's answer to '60s and '70s B-movies, the plot of Death Proof is extremely simple: there is a psychopath, named Stuntman Mike (Kurt Russell), who enjoys killing women with his car, a virtually indestructible vehicle ("This car is 100% death proof. Only to get the benefit of it, honey, you REALLY need to be sitting in my seat!"). Whenever he arrives in a new town he selects a group of girls and sets his perverse plan into motion. And unless he runs into someone who is as crazy or drives as well as him, there is no way to stop him.

Those expecting QT's usual stream of film references will be disappointed: apart from a hilarious restaurant scene that sort of spoofs the opening of Reservoir Dogs and a couple of nods to similarly themed horror flicks (and, of course, the casting of Russell, which is a deliberate homage to John Carpenter), the director is not interested in exposing his absolute knowledge of this kind of cinema. This time, he delivers a straightforward genre movie, albeit with his trademark tough women at the center. The trailer promised a wildly fun B-movie, and that's exactly what Death Proof is: a movie like they don't make anymore, old-fashioned, irony-free and exciting as hell.

However, this does not mean Tarantino has set his visual or verbal obsessions aside: the dialogue is as imaginative and surreal as it has always been, and there are enough shots of bare female feet to keep fans happy. Naturally, being this a QT flick, those feet belong to a quality cast: the only real star in the film (apart from the villain, that is) is Rosario Dawson, but she is part of a talented ensemble, which includes Vanessa Ferlito (CSI: NY), Rose McGowan (Scream) and stunt-woman Zoe Bell (who doubled for Uma Thurman in Kill Bill). The mention of honor, though, goes to Russell, who finally has the opportunity to go all bad again, and boy, does he go bad: even when he is pretending to be a friendly chap who offers you a ride home, he exudes a sense of menace that doesn't leave until the end of the picture. Also worth praise are Michael Parks, reprising his role of foul-mouthed sheriff Earl McGraw (of From Dusk till Dawn and Kill Bill fame) and tying the two halves of the film together, and Tarantino himself, popping up as smug, ridiculously likable bartender Warren. The latter is particularly charming because, unlike other times (From Dusk's Richie Gekko is a good example), QT does not try to prove he can act (although he pulled off a remarkable job in Alias). He's just there for the sheer fun, like everyone else.

Pure, unadulterated fun and excitement: that's the key to appreciating Death Proof. Do not expect a smart, unusual take on an overused genre, like the director has done in the past: this time around, he sticks to the rules, delivering a loud, silly, sexy, violent piece of Entertainment with a capital "e". It may not be the best film of 2007, but it sure as hell is one of the most purely enjoyable.

Clunky editing, grainy filming, laughable stories, ultra-violence and exploitation in the guise of feminism and blacksploitation. Not the most appealing of conventions when it comes to the modern cinema audience. Perhaps this explains, to a certain extent, why the old drive-in formula of watching back-to-back trashy hardcore exploitation films was lost on American audiences. Grindhouse took a paltry $4.2 million on its opening weekend and has thus far failed to make back even half the double movie's budget. This despite most critics who went to see it having nothing but praise for Tarantino and chums. But apparently only seeing the numbers, Quentin and co-director Robert Rodriguez decided it would be best to split their respective stories apart, and release them as two movies in the UK, flying in the face of Grindhouse logic.

The first of these films, is Death Proof, Quentin Tarantino's homage to the likes of producer Roger Corman's Deathrace 2000 and director Jack Hill's Switchblade Sisters (1975), with Kurt Russell's Stuntman Mike having an unhealthy obsession with crashing into cars driven by young ladies. An appropriately stupid premise tailor-made for a grindhouse market. Why then does the film seem so incidental when attempting to recreate the vibe of a Corman-style trash fest? The long and short answer is that this isn't really a grindhouse film. It is a Tarantino film with the ghosts of so many bad old movies hovering over it. Yes you get the grainy film footage, and the purposefully poor editing that raise the chuckles they crave. But that quickly fades away, and Tarantino very quickly moves into familiarly talkative territory akin to hit men talking about European hamburgers or bank robbers musing about the veracity of Madonna's hit single "Like A Virgin". Although this is not entirely a bad thing, it is not inherently valid for this type of material. Tarantino can't help but overload his scenes with meaningless meandering, almost as if he has reached the point of aimless directorial swaggery. One scene, for instance, involves one of the girls buying a magazine at a gas station. A simple interaction that goes on forever it would seem, failing to tell us anything about the characters or indeed the plot. At least Pulp Fiction had meaning behind the mundanity of its own inhabitants. I did often wonder if much of this was down to Tarantino having to bulk up his film after splitting it from Planet Terror. It has the veneer of a movie in desperate need of a good editor, much in the same way that Kill Bill vol. 2 needed a good spit shine. And then we have the actual car scenes. Well barring the ultra-violent central car crash that splits the film's two female groups, and the climactic car chase (expertly executed) Death Proof is nothing more than a girls gone hiking film. Again, blame the editing, for an awful lot of this movie creates a hugely diverting story of girls pontificating the kind of popular interests that only Tarantino would make them do, such as a love for the film Vanishing Point or Dave, Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Titch. Is it stylish? Absolutely. No Tarantino film could ever bore you aesthetically, or indeed talk you to death with insipid dialogue. Even if it is uneven and ponderous, listening to these characters waffle on about nothing in particular is still executed smoothly and embodies that Tarantino air of coolness. Maybe the inevitable release of Grandhouse as a whole will win over my heart more. It's a bit of a mess, but like all car crashes, you can't help but stare at it.

Death Proof, directed by Quentin Tarantino, is the other half of the Grindhouse double exploitation experience. The other half being Robert Rodriguez's Planet Terror. In it an aged stunt driver, played by Kurt Russel, stalks different groups of women in his souped-up muscle car, getting sick kicks out of their terror.

And, as stated, it is an intentional, old school exploitation film, so expect a lot of stereotypes, gore scenes, sexualization of women, drinking and smoking, and just all around extreme tastes. Think of what Tarantino usually does and then remove the slightest of filters he usually utilizes. And, if you like the style, this is definitely a film worth checking out.

That being said, it is curiously slow for an exploitation film. Tarantino is known for his lengthy, bizarre dialogue scenes, and nowhere is that more apparent than here. Granted, they are very good dialogues and these are all interesting characters, played by talented actors, but they're still as long as hunger years. Tone it down a bit, Quentin. We don't necessarily have to know the whole life story of every single character on the screen. Just saying.

But, it's not like I was bored. More morbidly fascinated by their length. And luckily the few action scenes the film has are really good. They're just as over the top, practically made and beautiful in their goriness as we've come to expect from Tarantino. No complaints there.

Death Proof is most probably the weakest film Quentin Tarantino has ever made. But, to paraphrase his own words, if this is the worst he's ever made, he's good. He's very good.

This film was an homage to the grind house flicks of the past. It's crowning achievement was the inclusion of some of the baddest gals on film, and one of the hottest.

Vanessa Ferlito as Arlene, who I would watch sitting in a chair for an hour anytime. It was well worth it to see that lap dance. Ferlito was clearly the star of this film.

Then there were the badass girls: Tracie Thoms as Kim and Rosario Dawson as Abernathy. I could watch them ride around in a car for an hour anytime.

It was the last third of the film where the action was ramped with some fantastic stunt work by badass Zoe Bell and, of course, the coup de grâce, Abernathy's boot in Stuntman Mike's (Kurt Russell) face. Heavenly.