Grindhouse perpetuates ‘sexy action’

By Nate Adams
Collegian Staff
April 18, 2007

Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez, two directors/writers who are well known for being creative, if not a few sandwiches short of a picnic, have joined forces to make the ultimate tribute to the violently sexy B-movies of the ’70s. This is the fifth time the pair has collaborated; first on the flawed Four Rooms, again on the entertaining but ignored From Dusk ’Till Dawn, again when Rodriquez worked on the Kill Bill Volume 2 soundtrack, and yet again on the highly acclaimed 2005 release Sin City. Their most recent collaboration, Grindhouse, is their most polarizing yet, with each director creating his own individual film to be shown back-to-back. While Tarantino’s film may be technically superior, it is Rodriguez who makes the movie which is really worth seeing in this campy, post-modern, tongue-in-cheek testosterone fest.

Anyone who has seen a Tarantino movie will know what to expect for Death Proof, his contribution to the double feature. Tarantino has earned his reputation from his fast, clever dialogue and good character development, and Death Proof has all of that in spades. The film follows two separate groups of women as they are stalked by a polite and charming psychopath named Stuntman Mike (played excellently by B movie all-star Kurt Russell; he steals every scene in the movie).

When the picture focuses on Mike stalking these women with his beefed-up, “death proof” car, the movie is an absolute joy. However, the vast majority of the film is nothing but dialogue between characters, and while that has always been a selling point in Tarantino’s work, here it drags the film at an almost torturous pace, to the point where it becomes nothing more than four people having a conversation. Snore. Also, minus two points for the character “Marcy,” the most stereotypical and annoying “sassy minority” character since Rosie Perez in White Men Can’t Jump.

Where Tarantino’s film is a snoozefest with the occasional action, Rodriguez’s Planet Terror is a non-stop thrill ride (and I promise that I will never type those last few words again). Planet Terror follows lovers Cherry and Wray (played by Rose McGowan and Freddy Rodriguez, respectively) as they attempt to fight off zombies terrorizing a small Texan town. Because this movie is campy and flawed by design and not circumstance, it is an absolute joy. Everything about this movie is over the top: the acting, the violence, the sex. Even things like the setting and dialogue are completely absurd.

However, because this is all done with a wink, the movie is able to be both cliché and refreshing at the same time. The action never stops in this one. Every five minutes there is a bigger explosion, a more gruesome death, or a new gun appendage (the gun leg was oh-so-excellent). Planet Terror is stupid and childish and full of plot holes, but man oh man, it’s fun as hell.

With Grindhouse, both directors set out to make a modern day tribute to the shameless, over the top B-movies of the ’70s. Both succeed, but in different ways. Planet Terror is the more obvious acknowledgment, with its bad acting, plot holes and nonstop explosions of sexy action. Death Proof, however, might be the more subtle and perhaps better tribute to the era. Rather than make an obvious B-movie copycat, maybe Tarantino decided instead to make a purposely flawed film with good aspects, because that was what those movies were like.

I don’t know; maybe he just dropped the ball.

The bottom line is that Rodriguez made a good-bad movie, and Tarantino made a good-bad movie. Despite the titanic length of the production and the painful slowness in Death Proof, the balls-out action of Planet Terror coupled with some hilarious fake trailers in between the two movies make Grindhouse a worthy film for those looking to have some mindless fun.

adamsn1@lasalle.edu