I just saw Kill Bill, and can safely say that my review title would be: “Film Critics: Shut the F*** Up!” It was great. Great. Obscenely great. I had to smoke a cigarette afterwards, if you catch my drift…that amazing. I would have happily stayed in the theatre and watched it four more times.
I don’t see where all the negative reviews are coming from. Just because Quentin Tarantino spews verbiage like a speed freak with an espresso IV drip during interviews (and has an ego the size of Texas) doesn’t mean that you have to automatically hate everything he does on principle. Yes, the violence made Reservoir Dogs look like a Hello Kitty lunchbox, but that was the basis of the plot, people! Deal with it. It was stylized, artistic, graceful… as graceful as spurting blood and shed limbs can be, anyway. And Uma. Uma. Uma. Uma. I would bear her children and scrub the nursery floor with my tongue afterwards for Uma. Is is 20 February 2004 yet? Is it? is it?
This was the best film since Secretary, in my films-of-the-past-year book. Depending on how the second part turns out, it may end up on my permanent top ten. Run, do not walk, to your nearest super-large-screen theatre and see this movie.