We saw GRINDHOUSE yesterday. This tribute by Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino to the cheap, nasty '70's movies of their youth reminded me of when I was in grade school, and kids (generally boys) who had managed to see R-rated films (probably through the expedient of the local Drive-in) would enthuse about the nastier scenes they saw -- like a POV shot of a man falling out of a window, or an ill-advised use of a shotgun on a human body. The two movies were uneven, to say the least; and did not quite capture the spirit of the '70's flicks. The Rodriguez movie was far too well photographed, and had far too nicely-done special effects, to qualify as a trash-flick. And the Tarantino movie interspersed its excellent car-wars scenes (and the tremendously-charismatic Kurt Russell) with endless scenes of women talking with each other -- scenes that went on so long that they seemed parodies of similar bits in Tarantino's earlier movies.
I had to agree with friends who told me the absolute best part of GRINDHOUSE was the faux coming-attraction trailers, by Rodrieguez (doing a satire of blaxpoitation trailers) and guest directors like Eli Roth and Rob Zombie.
Those who follow Rodriguez's films will recall that Tarantino often appears in them; and that when he does, his character usually meets a bad end. This movie continues the tradition; and Tarantino's nasty rapist mercenary meets about the worst, nastiest fate ever shown in cinema.
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