Spooky Film of the Day – Death Proof (Quentin Tarantino, 2007)
It took me a long, long time to get round to watching Death Proof, and to be honest with you, that was probably largely down to the fact that I haven’t been overly impressed with the general output of Quentin Tarantino in this century…
Don’t get me wrong, both Kill Bills 1 and 2 and Inglourious Basterds have their moments; it’s just that overall they’re a bit, well silly, and I rather assumed that Death Proof would be similarly flawed. It also didn’t help that its release was so truncated, what with the whole “It’s going to be released as a Grindhouse-style double-bill with Robert Rodriguez’s Planet Terror… Oh no wait, it isn’t.” It just felt like it was going to be little more than an interesting stopgap, and even then only interesting if you have a passion for 70s exploitation cinema – which I sort-of do, but that’s beside the point.
But how wrong I was! Not only is Death Proof the best film Quentin Tarantino has made since Jackie Brown, but it is also the most intelligent and joltingly original horror film I’ve seen in a long, long time. Kurt Russell is on super-sinister, almost Snake Plissken-like form as “Stuntman” Mike, a man whose occupation may be no mystery, but whose motivations – at least initially – very much are. Following a playful, slithering build-up, during which we are introduced to a notably feisty quartet of potential victims, we eventually learn that Mike likes to smash into young ladies in his vocationally appropriate ”death proof” car, leaving them for dead and making it all look like an accident… And that he’s got our four new friends in his sights.
I really don’t want to say anymore about how the action unfolds, but Tarantino engrossingly spools out his story in a way that manages to critique the codes and conventions of the slasher genre, while simultaneously revamping it. “Stuntman” Mike is an extraordinarily original horror/exploitation bogeyman in that he is in turns aggrandised, demystified, fetishised and humiliated; and Kurt Russell has the time of his life the whole way through, with a special nod due to each and every female member of cast, as well. And also, don’t overestimate the whole “authentic Grindhouse vibe” that Death Proof was sold on (ie fake scratches on the film, deliberate sound glitches etc.), it’s really only used as an enigmatic stylistic tool here - remember how little Jackie Brown actually resembled a blaxploitation film? Well, that’s how little Death Proof actually resembles an exploitation film – and in equally the same way, it’s simply better than almost every film that it’s an apparent homage to.
Never mind all those fake trailers that were supposed to go in between Death Proof and Planet Terror in the cinema (Edgar Wright seems to be the only one who really “got” the idea, anyway), let’s instead enjoy the actual trailer for the whole sorry Grindhouse experiment itself… Happy Halloween everybody!
5 Comments
Not a good film. A self indulgent mess and the only Tarantino flick that I do not like. Planet Terror did a much better job of capturing the right vibe.
Easy, Paul!
I didn’t think I was going to like Death Proof myself… But I think it’s great!
This seems a lot less of a self-indulgent mess than Inglourious Basterds!
Haven’t seen Planet Terror. Can’t say I’m really a Robert Rodriguez fan, but I’m willing to give it a go.
I’m not a massive fan of Rodriguez, either but Planet Terror just hit the mark for me in terms of replicating what was fun and trashy about grindhouse films. I really disagree about Inglourious Basterds being more self-indulgent than Death Proof too – there are huge, unnecessary sections in the stand-alone version of DP which offer little more than a group of girls sat around a table talking about movies and seems so laboured it comes off as a bad imitation of Tarantino writing.
Incidentally, If you seek out the actual Grindhouse print of both films together (accompanied by the fake trailers) DP plays a lot better because it loses around twenty minutes. It’s still not great but it does a far better job of aping the exploitation vibe. That said Planet Terror plays better in its longer, stand-alone version.
And hi, Alan, hope you’re well, mate.
Yo, Paul!
I’m very well, thanks.
I hear you’re residing in sunnier climes these days? Cornwall? As immortalised in the film Blue Juice?
I know the scene you mean in Death Proof, and I largely agree – it is rather tedious, and the dialogue’s a bit patchy. But I remember being grabbed by the slow pan that reveals Kurt Russell in the background (I think there’s a similar sequence in I Spit on Your Grave?), and besides, isn’t it all just build-up to the stonking stunt finale? Would be interesting to see the original Grindhouse print to see how it differs, and to catch Planet Terror.
I found Inglourious Basterds terribly self-indulgent. There were moments I really enjoyed in there, but on the whole I thought it was utterly daft. He seemed to run away completely with his most juvenile inclinations. That “Bowie” bit? Austin Powers as a British officer? Puh-lease!