SPECIAL SCREENING FILM REVIEW || Seen at Cineworld Shaftesbury Avenue, London, Tuesday 20 May 2014 (and on release in 1994) || My Rating a must-see
It’s difficult to revisit this film after so many years, not because it’s not still a solid piece of cinematic entertainment (it is), but because for many of us who were film fans in their late-teens when it first came out, it has something of a watershed status. I initially saw it somewhat illicitly, with the thrill of being (slightly) underage at the cinema given its 18 certification, and subsequently watched it many times on home video — probably too many times, meaning I haven’t looked at it for a very long time. Plus so very much has been written about it over the years, I daresay there’s little I can add. In any case, this most recent screening was on account of its 20th anniversary (20 years!), and I can confirm it still holds up. Like director Quentin Tarantino’s best works, it has a loose shaggy feel to it, while still being tightly structured, and if there are strands and characters I’m less keen on, the overall effect remains undiminished. Part of that loose structural feeling comes from the fact that it features a number of separate stories, introduced by title cards and linked by some shared characters and — eventually — shared locations seen from different perspectives, but the tightness is in the interwoven nature of the storylines, which recalls Altman’s Short Cuts of the year before (and indeed the short stories of Raymond Carver on which that film was based). At the film’s heart are Jules and Vince, a pair of hitmen played by Sam Jackson and John Travolta, early and mid career highs for each actor respectively. Tarantino always was good at showcasing the best of his (often unfashionable) actors — here including Bruce Willis and Uma Thurman — but that sadly doesn’t extend to his own appearances; his infatuation with blaxsploitation filmmaking combined with a vocabulary that seems partly indebted to the gangsta rap of the period is not anything that should really be coming from his own lips, though I suppose his willingness to declaim it marks some kind of honesty. His other up-front influences are rather more delightfully integrated, including an obsession with Jean-Luc Godard that you’d perhaps expect from a filmmaker whose production company is called A Band Apart, and which manifests itself in an early shot of Jules and Vince framed from the back of their heads, and continues into Vince’s dance with an Anna Karina-like Mia (Uma Thurman), not to mention other little self-consciously cinematic flourishes. That’s not to say Tarantino lacks his own style, but a key part of that style is grounded in his own pop cultural education, and Pulp Fiction is where that all came together most forcefully, and still does.
CREDITS || Director/Writer Quentin Tarantino | Cinematographer Andrzej Sekula | Starring Samuel L. Jackson, John Travolta, Uma Thurman, Bruce Willis, Ving Rhames | Length 154 minutes