Death Proof - Tarantino’s 70’s B-Movie

Dec

17

Death Proof - Tarantino’s 70’s B-Movie

≡ Category: Action, Comedy, Movie Reviews By Country, Recommended, Suspense, United States |
≅ Written by: Michael Kydonieus

Country: United States
Genre: Action/ Comedy/ Suspense
Director: Quentin Tarantino
Year: 2007

Rating:

TRASH CINEMA RECOMMENDED MOVIE

I was one of the few people who actually saw Grindhouse, the lollapalooza consisting of Robert Rodriguez’ Planet Terror, Quentin Tarantino’s Death Proof and a bunch of faux grindhouse trailers directed by the likes of Eli Roth, Rob Zombie, and Edgar Wright (director of Shaun of the Dead). It really took me back to the days of 2nd run theaters with sticky floors, bad projection, and triple features. It was a blast.

Death Proof was the second half of the Grindhouse bill — it’s Tarantino’s take on the old drive-in car chase movies from the 70s, like Dirty Mary, Crazy Larry, Gone In 60 Seconds, and more, all of which are name-checked in Death Proof. Actually, Death Proof is not an updated version of those old movies. Quentin Tarantino has actually gone and created an actual 70s car chase movie. Why do I say that?

Back in those days, B-movies used up whatever budget they had on car crashes. Of course, there was no CGI in those days. But the directors still needed to fill up 90 minutes or so of programming, so there was a lot of filler in those pictures. And that’s exactly what Tarantino does. His female protagonists talk and talk and talk, basically about nothing. For me, hell would be the Austin, Texas bar where the girls hold forth, old Stax 45s are played, and the bartender forces you to drink Chartreuse, “the only drink so cool they named a color after it.”

But other than the deliberate nattering, Tarantino has crafted a moderately entertaining smash-em-up, just like the old days. Anything too spectacular might be more entertaining, but it wouldn’t actually be true to the form.

Not that the acting is the point of a genre exercise like this, but the actresses aren’t terribly good in this movie, although some are better than others. Vanessa Ferlito, Sydney Poitier, and Tracie Thoms are irritating spouting the usual Tarantino nonsense. Poor Zoe Bell, an actual stuntwoman by trade, is the most grating of all. Listening to her prattling on pays off though, in an extended sequence in which she straddles the hood of a car. Mary Elizabeth Winstead makes out better as a naive girl in a cheerleader outfit. Rosario Dawson is certainly decorative as Abernathy, as she bugs her eyes and snorts like a horsey. Best of all is Rose McGowen, in a very small part. She manages to honor the traditions of these 70s B movies while still giving a good performance.

Of the men, Eli Roth is appropriately nasty as a calculating, horndog male. Quentin Tarantino is simply nauseating as a pushy bartender who doesn’t know when to shut up. He obviously thinks he’s way cool. Kurt Russell, as Stuntman Mike, is another story. Russell just hits the role out of the park. Russell takes the stylized dialog Tarantino gives him and makes it sound natural. Russell comes off as both creepy and funny. Believe it or not, Stuntman Mike is the role of Russell’s career.

But this sort of criticism is kind of missing the point. If you aren’t a total film geek, and you’re just looking for a good time, you can do a whole lot better than Death Proof. However, if you have fond memories of the good old days of triple features and sticky floors, you might get a kick out of it. It’s an exact reproduction of one of those old flicks from the 70s, right down to the missing frames, scratched negative, unintentional jumpcuts, amateurish acting, padded dialog, excessive profanity, and occasional perversity. As an exercise in style, it’s damned near perfect.