REVIEW: Grindhouse

It’s at this point where I’m going to say, “Fuck the Box Office; Grindhouse is the Movie Experience of the Year!” Now, down to specifics…

I’m sure you’re aware of the gimmick by now: Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino write and direct back to back horror films modeled after the shlocky Grindhouse Cinema classics popularized in the 1970s. Robert’s film, Planet Terror, focuses on zombie gore and goodies when a biochemical weapon is released into the atmosphere that turns everyone into ravenous lepers. Quentin’s film, Death Proof, is a slasher that would make Carpenter and Craven smile, but instead of a knife, the killer uses a car to attack his victims. Joyously spliced between them are 5-6 minutes worth of fake trailers directed by Rob Zombie, Eli Roth, and Edgar Wright.  What results is 3 hours and 15 minutes of entertainment.

I’ve been waiting for Grindhouse for about a year, and the wait  was well worth it. I’ve made no secret to the fact that I’m a film buff, and I’ve been saying for a long time that theaters should bring back things like double features in order to make the theatergoing experience new and unique again. So obviously, I fall squarely into this film’s target demo. I’m obviously disappointed that this hasn’t appealed to the more mainstream audience, but to be honest, this one would’ve flew right over Joe Q. Public’s head.

But how do the films stack up? Well, after a great trailer made by Robert Rodriguez for Machete (starring the fabulous Danny Trejo) the film Planet Terror begins. This is what Grindhouse is all about. Rodriguez’ film is packed with action and gore, and the cast is superb. It seems like everyone is having fun, which is essential for making the film enjoyable. Rodriquez has gone all out in making this an authentic Grindhouse experience: the film print is horrible, scratched out in places and having odd colors in others. A very important reel is missing somewhere in the film, and the score is absolutely kick-ass. Now, I’ve always been skeptical of giving films free passes on believability or fidelity in the script, but the mark of the brilliance of this film is that the excitement level carries us over any pot holes in the script, so we don’t care that it may be totally cheesy. We just want to see what happens next.

Then come the trailers. The clear winner in this round is Eli Roth’s Thanksgiving, and the clear loser being Rob Zombie’s Werewolf Women of the SS. (Zombie more that makes up for it with his awesome Halloween trailer.) You may have different perceptions, and that’s your little red wagon. But I thought that this was the best idea for a film gimmick that’s been seen since the days of William Castle. (if you don’t know who he is, consider yourself fortunate…)

Then comes Quentin Tarantino’s Death Proof. I’ll just come out and say it: this film didn’t do it for me. I thought the idea was fantastic, but the meat of the story and what makes it enjoyable was lost beneath the theme and the weighty dialogue we’ve come to expect from QT. I will say that Kurt Russell was great, nearing brilliant, playing this very deep psychopath. But the character’s depth was one of the things dragging this movie down. Stuntman Mike is too complex a character to be in a Grindhouse film. He has issues, demons, and I’d love to see what makes him tick even more, but that was a distraction in this instance.

As mentioned above, the dialogue tries to bench-press 1000 lbs. when all it needed to do was 100. I got the feeling that Tarantino loved listening to these characters talk in his head and focused on that instead of making the situation scary. The car chases were very tense, reminiscent of Steven Spielberg’s Duel. However, I thought that Tarantino just told his actresses to improvise their dialogue, as they are shouting and cursing the whole way down. And one actress even repeated a line, something like “I’ma bust a nut in this muthafucka!” One time, funny. Two times, tedious.

Finally, I thought that Rodriguez used the film elements much more effectively than Tarantino. Rodriguez uses them for comic relief, and there is not a shot in Planet Terror that isn’t without some sort of degrading film effect. Tarantino starts out that way, but as the film nears its climax, it’s like he forgets about them and concentrates on cutting the chase. And let’s not talk about the ending, okay…

Final Judgment: 4 and 1/2 questionable stains out of 5

Despite whatever flaws it may have, Grindhouse is the cinematic experience of sex, and not the drunken, 4-in-the-morning, 30 second sex, but the mind-blowingly passionate, sweaty, intense lovefest that lasts all night (and goes for an encore in the morning.) I cannot suck off that movie any more than I already have, but I will say this: if you still have the opportunity, go see it. We need more celebrations of the cinematic experience in our lives before films like Happy Feet 2: Happier Feet* flood our theaters and atropine the muscles of our beloved art form. This is one of the only things I’m really passionate about, so go. Please.

* Don’t laugh, you know they’ve thought of it