"It Ain't White Boy Day, Is It?"

TRUE ROMANCE (1993)

And they say Tarantino doesn't do romance.

Missed me? Forgot I existed? Yeah, so did I. Truth me told, I've been massively A-To-Zing o'er here, so I've had little to no time to do anything else. However! I do not shirk responsibility. At least, not when it's something epic and fun like a Quentin Tarantino Blogathon. And so I rallied and sat down to watch True Romance, a film I've surprisingly only seen once before. Truth be told, True Romance isn't my favorite Tarantino film. For one simple reason: it's not really a Tarantino film. Yes, he wrote the script, and you can see that "gutter poetry" of his rearing its head here and there. Still, at the end of the day, it's a Tony Scott film, with a couple Tarantino highlights to keep you going. 

Plot: True Romance follows the story of Clarence, a nerd who can't quite luck out with the ladies because he's too busy watching samurai films. Ring any bells? He meets the woman of his dreams, Alabama, only to find out she's a hooker who's been hired by his boss to give him a good time. What happens next is a bloody trail of evidence that proves just how far two people will go to stay together.

Image from listal.

The Music: While watching the film, the music was the one, constant, nagging reminder that this was not a Tarantino film. I have to wonder what this film would look like if it was given a more "Taratino score". You know what I mean--Al Green, Dusty Springfield--all those great, classic artists who could definitely crank out a good, romantic tune. To be honest, the music really might be the one thing that forced me to knock this movie down a peg. It sounds petty, and maybe it is, but after the second, third, hundredth time Clarence and Alabama's theme song came around, I was ready to stab Hans Zimmer in the thumb piano. Don't get me wrong. I love Hans Zimmer. Inception will always get me in the mood to transverse time and space. However, this song was so fake-cheery every time it played I got the image of a bunch of African children laughing and chasing after some white married couple riding a horse down a beach off into the sunset. Don't even pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about.

Image from my.spill.com.

The Characters: Clarence and Alabama are our two main characters and, really, two excellent fucking characters. Let's look at the facts. Clarence is, yes, a movie-geek and a bit of a socially inept nerd. However, he's also incredibly quick on his feet and great at manipulating everyone around him. Mainly due to the fact that he has a small Elvis living inside of him telling him what to do. That's right, Clarence is basically the profile of every serial killer that's snapped and shoved bodies under his floorboards because a voice in his head told him to. Or maybe it's just Christian Slater who hasn't sat right with me since Heathers (1988). Either way, we can't help but love him because he's Clarence and he does everything he does for one simple reason: he's crazy about Alabama.

And who can blame him? I'm crazy about Alabama. What's not to love? She's played by the beautiful Patricia Arquette and she's a fucking powerhouse. Here's what I love about Alabama: she's fierce, she's a wild woman, and she will hold her own and get the shit beat out of her. And she's so fucking femme. She's no Sarah Conner. She doesn't chop off her hair, dirty up her face, and strap an uzi onto her back. But she's not a useless booby-prop either. Alabama doesn't conform to the stereotypical female love interest role, and for that, we salute her. I mean, c'mon. That scene where she gets beat to all hell? One of my favorite moments on the movie and a powerful fucking rebuttal to all those useless damsel in distress roles. Rock on, Alabama, rock on.

Image from cimemovies.fr.

The Actors: One of the best things about this movie are the many famous faces that pop up when you least expect them. And so, roll call: Gary Oldman reminds us that he can do anything. Samuel L. Jackson makes Tarantino's poetry sing and then leaves as quickly as he came. Brad Pitt gives Pineapple Express (2008) something to look forward to and, frankly, still does a better job of it. Christopher Walken is his usual beast of a man. Dennis Hopper does a fantastic job at playing Clarence's once dead-beat dad. More on him later. Val Kilmer is unrecognizable, but that's kind of the point anyway. Chris Penn's face always makes me happy. James Gandolfini is terrifying as shit. And a couple you may not know but now you officially should: Bronson Pinchot is whiny, sleazy, and perfect for the role. Michael Rapaport is my new favorite bad actor. And Saul Rubinek steals the show as every producer you wish you didn't know. It's just a great fucking list of names and everyone fits in their role perfectly. There's not a bad apple in the bunch. Now that is an accomplishment in itself.

The Conversation/The Iconic Moment: I had to put these two in the same category because there really is only one crowning moment in this film. One purely Tarantino, fucking magical moment. One moment, and shit suddenly got real. And that's none other than the "conversation" between Clifford Worely (Dennis Hopper) and Vincenzo Coccotti (Christopher Walken). If there's anyone more terrifying that Christopher Walken, I hope I never encounter them because they will surely hunt my nightmares until my dying day. The dude's a fucking rockstar of intimidation. And Dennis Hopper, who's had my love since Easy Rider (1969), gives it right back to him. The chemistry between these two kills me. Every time. But at the end of the day, what it boils down to is this: it's just a brilliant fucking script. The slow build, the uneasy tension, the final culmination of it all...damn. All I can say. If you never see this film, at very least, watch this scene. Now excuse me while I watch it a couple hundred times.

The Mexican Standoff: Really, where would we be without a good, old-fashioned, Mexican Standoff? The funny thing about it is, despite the fact that this is a signature Tarantino move, this scene kept giving me flashbacks of various other films. Like Lock, Stock And Two Smoking Barrels (1998), where all our different characters quite literally collide with another at the end. Or even Boogie Nights (1997), where our hero comes to terms with his downfall in the middle of a rotten drug deal. Which is, clearly, unfair of me, since all those movies came after True Romance. And it wasn't that I didn't like the scene--trust me, I did. I just kept getting the feeling that it was something I'd seen before. Still, I will never say no to a good gun fight, especially with a couple epic feather-covered death scenes. Rock on.

Image from gq.com.

Fun Facts: This movie actually has quite few little facts surrounding the production, especially since Quentin Tarantino sold the script and then stepped away from it completely. True Romance is an elaboration on Tarantino's first film project, My Best Friend's Birthday. It's also the most autobiographical of Tarantino's scripts, which we kind of figured out anyway. C'mon. Clarence is an Elvis man who practically lives at the movie theater when he's not pursuing comic books. We can see the connection. It's also worth noting that this script was originally a monster of a movie that was split up between True Romance and Natural Born Killers. Between you and me, I think Natural Born Killers is a better romance, but I'm willing to fight about it.

And now for my favorite bit, which even I didn't catch the first time around. Remember good old Reservoir Dogs? In Mr. White's flashback, he mentions working alongside a wild woman who went by the name of Alabama. Starting to put the pieces together? Clarence was originally supposed to die in the shootout, leaving Alabama on her own to turn to the life of crime. And this is why we love being die-hard Tarantino fans. Talk about world building. J. R. R Tolkien has nothing on that shit.

And that's a wrap for True Romance. If you've got any True Romance posts you want to throw at me, hit me up at mhufstader (at) gm.slc.edu before May 1st and I'll give you a shout out. Next up, my favorite movie of all time: Pulp Fiction (1994). 

First Things Fuckin' Last.

RESERVOIR DOGS (1992)

Tarantino's got junk in his trunk.

I know what you're thinking. M., really? It's your own damn QT Blogathon, and you still can't help but procrastinate like a little bitch? Yeah, yeah, so call me Last Second Sam. But I don't seem to be the only way with lastseconditis--if anyone wants to get in on Reservoir Dogs, now is the time! Send me (grasshopperon (at) earthlink.net) anything and everything you've written (even that old dusty piece you wrote some five years ago that's sitting on your shelf) about Reservoir Dogs before April 1st and I'll give you a shout out. Hell, I'm a procrastinator too, if you send it on April 1st, you'll probably get a shout out anyway. And if you don't, I've only got one person so far who's send me anything, so I'll just put his blog up in big sparkly letters and it'll be like his birthday all over again.

image from listal.

But, really, I understand--the truth is, it's incredibly hard to for me write about Reservoir Dogs. I think it has something to do with the fact that I start convulsing like a diabetic squirrel every time the movie comes up. It's just so fucking good. Period. It's so good, it's really hard to wrap my head around the fact that this is Quentin Tarantino's first full-on film--if you don't count My Best Friend's Birthday. Which everyone should give a look through anyway, just because 1) you get Tarantino ODing and 2) he finally admits his foot fetish. But back to The Dogs. I've come up with a list of all the ways Reservoir Dogs fills the quota for a Tarantino movie. Ramblers, let's get rambling. 

The Plot: It's a simple enough plot--a gang of thieves are stuck in a warehouse after a robbery gone bad and forced to figure out which one of them is the rat. It's practically textbook. Until Tarantino gets his hands on it, that is.

The Music: What astounds me about Reservoir Dogs is that Tarantino does not hold back. He isn't trying to please anyone. He's making the movie he wants, period. It has all of his signature moves: the long, drawn out conversations, the Mexican standoff, and of course, the hectic and often hilarious music. As the Dogs strut their stuff to Little Green Bag, you've gotta wonder if everyone knew quite how iconic this movie was going to turn out to be. Then to throw the whole movie on its head by ending on Harry Nilsson's Coconut--I mean, who does that shit? Tarantino does that shit. Black humor is really what sells Tarantino movies time and time again--after all, it's be easy to sell this off as a tense drama with a lot of hard stares and overcompensating tough guys. Instead, we've got Mr. Orange flailing in his own blood (over cheery music, I might add), Mr. Pink whining about tipping waitresses, and a Copacabana funeral hymn. There is no such thing as background music in a Tarantino movie, instead he uses it to heighten the hilarity of the situation and keeps us completely and utterly engaged. Then, of course, there's Stuck In The Middle With You. More on that later...

Badasses being badass.

The Characters: Despite the fact that this is about as ensemble as they get, if I had to pick two main characters they'd probably be Mr. Orange and Mr. White. Mr. White is one of those criminals you can't help but love--he's got a heart of gold, and while you don't particularly ever want to get on Mr. White's bad side, he's a very caring kind of guy. He spends the majority of the movie trying to comfort Mr. Orange and he stands up for things we can all get behind--like loyalty and bromance. Mr. Orange is the other side of that coin--he's a sneaky little undercover bastard, but on the same token, he's very human. A little cocky, maybe, a little reckless, but he's "the good guy"...or at least, he would be in any other film. However, in a movie filled to the brim with anti-heroes, it's the man of the law who becomes the closest thing to an antagonist. 

The Actors: Tarantino is known for doing two things: taking actors out of retirement and putting obscure faces on the map. And it's not hard to see why. Every Dog shines--from Harvey Keitel's no-nonsense bull dog mug to Tim Roth's frantic terrier energy to Steve Buscemi's wide-eyed Chihuahua yaps. If you're wondering what happened to those infamous dogs playing poker, look no further.

And I've got to give some love and attention to the supporting cast. Of course, Michael Madsen, my man. But I'm talking about Chris Penn, who was underrated in his time, but always a joy to watch. Seriously, you can tell why Nice Guy Eddie doesn't really come into present tense of the film until the end because when he is in it, he steals the fucking camera. Also, I will add that Chris Penn and Michael Madsen were very close in real life, and their chemistry shows when they're rolling around on Big Daddy's floor together. Speaking of Big Daddy, Lawrence Tierney. Apparently a pain in the ass to work with. You have to listen to the stories to believe them, so I'm just going to put the video up here. But damn...worth the pain. Joe Cabot is the quintessential mob boss man, and you don't get much better than that.

The Conversation: I mean, really. What would a Tarantino movie be without those long, drawn out conversations that he's the absolute master of perfecting? I've heard some people complain that they get bored whenever the characters dive into conversations about movies or music or whateverthefuck, but those people clearly aren't listening. Although they seem random, they never are--they always divulge important information about the characters while steadily building a natural yet intense tension.

In my opinion, there are two really brilliant conversations in Reservoir Dogs. The first is, of course, the opening scene. AKA: Madonna's Big Dick. It's hilarious, it's natural, and it sets up the characters relationships for the entire movie. We've got tension between Mr. Blonde and Mr. White, which in turn highlights Mr. Blonde's loyalty to Joe Cabot. We've got Mr. Orange trying to blend in and doing his damnedest to be "one of the guys". We've got Mr. Pink showing his true selfish colors as the one character focused entirely on his own survival. It's a ten minute conversation about music and address books, but it sets up the tone of the movie and gives us an insight into every one of the characters at the table.

The second conversation that I love is more of a monologue than anything. Mr. Orange's one story that's supposed to sell him as a completely legit criminal. It's a brilliant piece, complete with flashbacks and an occasional interjection from his audience. And it does a multitude of things all at once: it solidifies Mr. Orange's backstory, it shows him as the master storyteller he is, and it gives us a reason to root for him. Not to mention, it's just fucking hilarious. Oh, and hi, Lawrence Bender.

image from listal.

The Iconic Moment: You guessed it. My absolute favorite moment of the entire film--Stuck In The Middle With You. It works on every level imaginable. It's grotesque, it's painful, it makes me laugh, it makes me cringe, and it makes me love Michael Madsen more than I thought possible. And Mr. Blonde cuts a bitch's ear off. C'MON. From Madsen's funny twists and turns, to the way he talks into the severed body part, to the final, abrupt end, there is nothing I don't love about this scene. We even get a neat little intermission, following Mr. Blonde out of the warehouse to get his gas can. Dogs bark, birds sing, kids play. And then it's right back inside to finish up his twisted, bloody dance. No matter how many times I watch this scene, I can't get over it. Magic, my friends, fucking magic.

And then there's Kirk Baltz. Also known as Officer Marvin Nash. Give this man an award. Fun fact of the day: most of his panic was ad-libbed. Which is impressive to get away with, especially on a Tarantino set. Still, the moment when he starts on about his children at home? All improvisation. Looking for proof? Listen closely, the newly-turned-father Michael Madsen grumbles in displeasure off screen. Still, they kept the take, because Kirk Baltz is that fucking brilliant.

Image from gonemovies.com.

The Mexican Standoff: Where to end this lovefest except at the end? After running a perfect 90 minutes, the tension of the film finally culminates until a full on Mexican standoff. We've got the Cabots on one side--Joe and Nice Guy Eddie--and Mr. White on the other side, standing up for his ideals and his bromance. Never mind that the bromance is ill-fated and ends in tragedy. And, of course, the only one who makes it out alive is the never-tips-a-waitress Mr. Pink, who you can hear getting pulled over and arrested in the background. All in all, it was the only way this movie could've ended, and Tarantino pulls it off brilliantly. With coconuts. There is really nothing I don't love about this movie. If you haven't seen it, I pity the fool.

Coming up next: True Romance (1993). I'll be putting up all the (one?) Reservoir Dogs posts I receive on/around April 1st. April will in turn be the month of the True Romance, and if you send me any and everything you've got on the movie, I'll put up those posts on March 1st. Full speed ahead to Django!