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)

Given the vast majority of major criticisms levelled at this film, it would appear that a large percentage of the audience has completely missed the joke, or simply, didn't find it at all amusing. With Death Proof (2007), Tarantino creates such a loving homage to a notoriously cult cinematic sub-culture that many people seem unaware of how to approach it or even how to appreciate the sheer fact that the film purposely goes out of its way to ape the style of late 60's and early 70's exploitation cinema in look, feel and content. The film isn't meant to be taken entirely seriously, but rather, is a parody and/or pastiche of the kind of films that the vast majority of mainstream audiences simply wouldn't want to see. I'm talking about films such as Two-Thousand Maniacs (1964), Ride the Whirlwind (1965), Manos: The Hands of Fate (1966), Satan's Sadists (1968), The Big Bird Cage (1971), Boxcar Bertha (1972), Fight for Your Life (1977) or Satan's Cheerleaders (1977); low-budget films made with often-non-professional actors, little in the way of conventional film logic, and highly controversial in terms of plot, theme and content.

It also sets out to pastiche the "grindhouse" cinema phenomena, with the original idea of two films being shown as a double feature at drive-in movie theatres from state to state, with both films often being re-cut and re-edited, not by the filmmakers, but by the theatre owners themselves. This is evident in the amusing switch in title; with the film opening with the caption 'Quentin Tarantino's Thunderbolt', before awkwardly cutting to an obviously out of place title card with 'Death Proof' crudely emblazoned across the screen. This is also the explanation for the purposeful mistakes in continuity, the sloppy editing and the switch between colour and black and white, as well as the façade of severely deteriorating film stock. It's not sloppy film-making, but rather, a purposeful appropriation of sloppy film-making geared towards appealing to the kind of obsessive movie aficionado who gets the references and can appreciate the joke that Tarantino is attempting to pull.

With this in mind, it seems hard to understand what people are complaining about. Do audiences actual expect this film to keep them enthralled and entertained when the vast majority of them would balk at experiencing many of the low-budget, semi-obscure films that influenced it? Hardly! The accusation here that "nothing happens" is fascicle. The fact that there is film running through the camera is proof enough that something is happening, with the hilariously bland dialog deconstructing the film in much the same way as the purposely amateurish composition, editing and sound all intended to fracture the cinematic language in the same way that Godard did; by reminding the audience that this is the film and the point of the film is to experience the sights and sounds that unfold before us. Added to this the colourful iconography, the music, the characters, the girls in tight t-shirts, the for once entirely justified performance from the man himself, all reminding us that this is a joyous, darkly comic romp in which the point is not "why?" but "why not?".

The effect is reminiscent of Kill Bill (2003), which at times felt superficial or perhaps even too knowing for its own good, but still demonstrated to us the filmmaker's great use of tone, texture, colour and movement, as well as turning many people on to a whole new world of cult Japanese cinema; from the works of highly individual filmmakers like Seijun Suzuki, Kinji Fukasaku and Takashi Miike, to cult performers like Sony Chiba. Death Proof attempts to do something similar with the likes of the American revisionist road movie, the B-cinema of Roger Corman and the femsploitation subgenre of films like The Big Bird Cage (1972), Caged Heat (1975), Day of the Woman (1978) and Ms. 45 (1981); a coolly ironic series of films in which wronged women take bloody revenge in an often elaborate and over the top style, chiefly intended to give a feminist slant to the still rampant degradation and misogyny prevalent in the exploitation genre.

Other reference points are more obvious as they're mentioned explicitly in the film; notably car chase cinema such as Vanishing Point (1971), Two-Lane Blacktop (1971), Dirty Mary, Crazy Larry (1974), Gone in 60 Seconds (1974) and even Spielberg's Duel (1971). Some have complained that the film fails on account of its lack of action and emphasis on dialog and technique, but this seems churlish when you think of the films being referenced; with Vanishing Point featuring a number of cryptic, desert-set sequences in which characters talk and talk and talk, while Two-Lane Blacktop punctuates its scenes of hard driving and drag-racing with much in the way of meandering small-talk. Then we have the fact that films like Reservoir Dogs - which takes place almost entirely within a single setting - and Jackie Brown - which places emphasis entirely on character - use dialog to not only create the characters but to also tell the story.

Regardless of this, Death Proof is meant as a piece of entertainment. There's no real desire here for Tarantino to prove what kind of filmmaker he is because he's already done that with the number of great films that came before. Sure, it can be seen as self-indulgent, but surely those of us familiar with the style of film-making being referenced here will revel in this particular kind of extravagance, loving everything from the continually inane female banter to the awesome scenes of high speed carnage. If you're not a fan cult cinema or exploitation cinema or indeed a devotee of Tarantino's work then this film really isn't going to impress you. There's no shame in that. Some films are made for a niche audience, destined to be a cult in their own right. However, for those who get it, Death Proof has the potential to be a truly exhilarating, one-off piece of film-making.

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.

In the City of Austin, Texas, the girlfriends Jungle Julia Lucai (Sydney Tamiia Poitier), Arlene (Vanessa Ferlito), Shanna (Jordan Ladd) and Lanna Frank (Monica Staggs) reunite in a bar to drink booze, smoke pot and make out with their boyfriends before traveling alone to Lake LBJ to spend the weekend together. They meet the former Hollywood stunt Stuntman Mike (Kurt Russell) that gives a ride to Pam (Rose McGowan) in his "death-proof" stunt car. Sooner Pam discovers that Stuntman Mike is a psychopath and he kills the girls provoking a deadly accident with his car. Fourteen months later, the infamous Stuntman Mike appears in Lebanon, Tennessee, stalking a group of women that works in cinema industry. Abernathy "Abbie" (Rosario Dawson) that works with make-up; the stuntwomen Zoë Bell and Kim (Tracie Thoms) and B-actress and model Lee (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) are chased by the maniac, but the girls are tough and decide to fight back.

"Death Proof" is an entertaining film of Quentin Tarantino that follows the style of B-movies and is full of action, violence and nice girls. There are references to many other movies, through dialogs, posters and billboards, but the greatest one is to "Vanishing Point". The choreography of the car races and accidents are amazing and the stuntwoman Zoë Bell is stunning. I was expecting to see what has happened to Lee that was left alone with the owner of the white car and his reaction after seeing the car totally wrecked, but the films has an abrupt end and forgets these characters. My vote is seven.

Title (Brazil): "À Prova de Morte" ("Death Proof")

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.