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Otta Wrote:

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> I'm kind of with Rosie on this one.

>

> Pulp Fiction was ace, True Romance (which he co

> wrote) is one of my favourite films. Other than

> that, meh.


yep me too, loved pulp fiction. (also reservoir dogs) and the vampire one forget the name of it.


and true romance is one of my favourite films too.

and yep, agree with what rosie about him being brattish etc.


edit - whoops i meant to say, not yet seen django unchained but think i might try to see this one. didn't bother with kill bill or inglorious bastards.

actually, when I saw reservoir dogs, I was impressed but rapidly tired of the trademark dialogue and throwaway violence. Im not a prude ( indeed enjoyed sexy beast again over Xmas )


the grindhouse lot...bloddy hell..terrible..its probabaly the only film I have turned off since Jarmans bloated Sebastiane. oh and I came close with Carnage recently.

I really rate Jackie Brown (but maybe B Womack, Elmore Leonard et al should get some of the credit for that) and Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs are impressive, but I turned off Kill Bill and the Grindhouse stuff, the cartoon violence is really tedious


From Dusk till Dawn remains a hoot every time I watch it, so a bit perplexed as to why it's rarely acknowledged by George Clooney fans!

woodrot Wrote:

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> the grindhouse lot...bloddy hell..terrible..its

> probabaly the only film I have turned off since

> Jarmans bloated Sebastiane. oh and I came close

> with Carnage recently.



I thought Carnage was brilliant. Really uncomfortable watching for a bit, then just got funny.

I'm with Bob, there's a certain panache to some of his films but they rarely stand up to repeated viewing in their entirety.


Reservoir Dogs was a refreshing new voice in a cinema industry that had abandoned that wonderful 70s creativity and spent a very dull decade in tiresome cliched cop/sci fi blockbusters.


Actually seeing as we get nothing but Superhero and vampire films anymore another new voice would be welcome, but QT aint it.


In fact is telly the new cinema, it's much better these days?

I was listening to a thing on the radio the other day about the industry going for the "grey dollar". Traditionally the cinema was used by young people, and they'd all rush to the opening weekend of a big film. Now though, since the success of The King's Speech, more and more films are being made which are aimed at a more... mature audience.


Guess it makes sense when you think that the 15 year old kid who was blown away by Star Wars Episode IV is now 50.

TV has the luxury of unfolding its sprawling narrative over the space of a 10+ episode season which makes it an altogether more immersive and fulfilling experience, so its different not necessarily better. Having said that, particular TV shows have wowed me with the maturity of the writing and faith it has in the audience to maintain focus and invest in the moral ambiguity of its characters(yes, Mr.White I'm talking about you). I cant honestly remember the last time cinema has moved and inspired me in a similar way.

On the plus side, QT movies have had some inspired soundtracks. Other than that, the trademark excessive violence and bad language are pointless. I might watch a QT movie on TV but I wouldn't pay for it. He's not doing anything that he wasn't doing better 20 years ago.


I saw Seven Psychopaths before Christmas which was violent but original and funny and inspired (and Martin McDonagh is Camberwell born and bred, so extra points there). QT is none of those things but he has a very high opinion of himself.

I am a bit worried I might be a massive racist because last week at a preview screening* I laughed like a hallucinating pig several times during Quentin Tarantino's Django Unchained, a preposterous cartoon romp through the laugh-a-minute world of slavery.


It's insanely violent. In one shootout, so much blood gets sloshed across the screen it's a miracle a scab didn't form over the lens. Despite, or perhaps because of this, it also contains some of the funniest moments I've seen in ages. What it does, brilliantly, is to gradually heighten the tension until you forget you're watching a dumb exploitation flick and start to take it all terribly seriously, before suddenly exploding into the kind of wilful silliness you'd expect to see in a Python movie. It's three hours long, but feels far shorter, with the final 60 seconds being particularly good.


Every single frame of Django Unchained could be considered offensive: the subject matter, the metronomic use of racial insults, the violence ? and occasionally the outfits ? are all wildly provocative. It could have been a career-ender for absolutely everyone involved. Instead, the film gets away with murder for reasons that are hard to put your finger on. And somehow, it gets away with it at a time when "taking offence" is all the rage.


Of course, today, simply "taking offence" isn't enough. Instead, you have to immediately run around honking on about how offended you are, as though this is some kind of devastating eureka moment that absolutely must be shared with the rest of humankind. It isn't. Go home. And next time wrap a towel around your waist before running outside.


There has been much pointing-and-chortling of late at the Daily Mail's embarrassing failure to stoke national outrage over a mildly irreverent comment about the Queen's sex life blurted out by Jack Whitehall on a festive panel show. This is fusty, old-school outrage, spluttered in your mind's eye by a swivel-eyed ex-colonel with dangerously high blood pressure. But because it flopped, it's actually sort of poignant, like watching an old man ineffectually waving his fist as they concrete the duckpond and put up a Nando's. Whitehall's offensive joke was scarcely offensive, and scarcely a joke. In fact it only worked as a joke if you imagined someone being offended by it. Enter the Daily Mail. Q: Who has won here? A: Jack Whitehall.


Of course the Daily Mail holds one of these outrage-drives roughly every six months. This is because it is a bastion of creaky old media. In the hyperspeed world of social media, there's a similar whipround every five minutes, often over far shakier stuff. Twitter and Facebook are seemingly full of people actively seeking out statements to be offended by, parsing every word as it scrolls upscreen, panning for turds. And the moment they find one, they launch into a performance of such deranged, self-assured haughtiness, the Daily Mail seems hopelessly amateur by comparison.


What's the psychology here? Is it a narcissistic compulsion to demonstrate how much more thoughtful and sensitive you are than the ignorant clod who offended you? An earnest belief that a better world will only be reached after several thousand hours of angry dissent over absolutely every linguistic transgression ever made? A cathartic howl of vague personal unhappiness disguised as a campaign of improvement? Or just something to do between bowel movements?


All human endeavour falls under that last category, come to think of it. The world's most beautiful sonnet was composed by someone who had shit hanging out of their bum shortly afterwards. That's just the way of the world, Virginia. It's all a waste of time. But I digress.


The most depressing thing about the climate of endless, instant outrage isn't just the sheer futility of it all ? because nothing actually changes apart from a few keys being bashed on the head by angry fingers ? but that this very futility allows strange and frightening new creatures to thrive: weird specimens such as the "James Delingpole", which as far as I can tell is a sort of stick insect whose sole function is to irritate passing liberals. Their cries of dismay are his oxygen. Without them he will die. Consequently, there isn't a week that goes by without Delingpole causing some sort of kerfuffle, then running away laughing like a naughty boy who has just blown off through the headmaster's letterbox.


This is every day on Twitter, for ever. 9am: James Delingpole says trees are lesbians so we should saw their flat ugly tits off and fire them at Muslims using a petrol-powered catapult. 9.03am: An enraged section of Twitter spends nine hours ceaselessly promoting James Delingpole, to the delight of James Delingpole. 6pm: James Delingpole triumphantly closes his laptop and strolls away whistling, clicking his heels as a cartoon vignette closes around him.


Q: Who has won here? A: James Delingpole. Q: What's more offensive than that? A: Nothing

My big problem with Tarantino is that he's the worst actor I've ever seen, but he insists on putting himself in everything he makes, and with his horrible face. His face is permanently distorted into a gargoyle study of smugness and contempt. And I can't bear to look at it, or hear his whiny whine.


I'm sure it's just over-compensation for never getting the girl way back when, but still, it's unpleasant and I would rather it didn't happen.


Oh, and his films since Pulp Fiction just aren't very good. Inglourious Basterds promised much in the beautiful opening, but then descended into bobbins. There are so many films that do funny and violent so much better than Tarantino these days - the revered In Bruges, Burn After Reading, hell, even Pineapple Express.


Still though, I'll go and watch it, and just shut my eyes when he comes on screen.

RosieH Wrote:

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> My big problem with Tarantino is that he's the

> worst actor I've ever seen, but he insists on

> putting himself in everything he makes, and with

> his horrible face. His face is permanently

> distorted into a gargoyle study of smugness and

> contempt.


So are you saying he's the Worrall-Thompson of film?

They're always watchable - and I do usually watch (Kill Bill aside, which I gave-up on).


There's enough ker-POW to keep you goggling; the soundtracks are usually interesting and there's always a line of established acting talent queueing-up to kiss Quentin's hand. But after the credits roll, it all just feels a bit hollow. There's nothing more to be gleaned from another viewing.. And This coming from a serial re-watcher of any old shit!

Were they wanted posters?


RosieH Wrote:

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> Yes, yes - exactly so, Mr Ben, exactly so.

>

> I went to Worral Thompson's pub once. It was full

> of pictures of himself and the food was shit.

>

> That's EXACTLY my experience of Tarantino

> (post-Pulp Fiction).

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