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Kill Bill

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The only thing that first came to mind when the movie ended was: Holy Shit.

Kill Bill is, without a doubt and without any hyperbole at all, the most brilliant piece of film making I have ever seen. Tarantino is a genius, a savior, a god among directors.

The plot doesn’t matter, so I won’t even tell you about it. The acting is secondary, so I won’t even get into that except to say that Uma Thurman was born to play this part.

Kill Bill defies genre. It’s everything. It’s everywhere. It’s the whole damn history of directing in one fell swoop. If anyone else had attempted to cram so many styles into one movie, it would be a failure of the grandest kind. But Tarantino works magic with this film, layering the pieces and fitting them into a sequence that works even though by all rights it shouldn’t.

It’s Pulp Fiction and Dead Alive and 70’s action and serious anime and every samurai movie you’ve ever seen. It’s lightning fast and film noir slow. It’s ballet with swords and gang fights set to Stomp.

It’s the bloodiest thing you will see this side of horror movies. The blood is not just a display of cuts and death; it’s an actor with a part. It’s over-the-top and spurts like a water fountain at every turn and you find yourself stunned by the beauty and magic of all that gore. There’s flying limbs and exposed brains and and a dangerously beautiful teenager who would cut off your arms just to watch you bleed to death.

Never have I witnessed such sheer amounts of death and grinned all the way through it. It wasn’t a grin of blood lust, it was the smile that comes with watching a job well done, a job completed to perfection by the true main stars of this film, the faces that are never seen; Tarantino, editor Sally Menke, and RZA, who scored all the original music.

If I had to sum this movie up in two words they would be, simply: Holy. Shit.

2004 can’t get here fast enough.

Kill Bill website.

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About Michele Catalano

  • Eliot

    HA! just read this thing found it hell funny!! u guyz completely went off the topic of kill bill and just strated arguing about postmodernistic views n crap like that. i have seen kill bill and i really liked the STORY LINE of the movie however i really think tarantino went a little overboard with the gore and blood (blood spurting over 5 metres out of someones arm gets a little old after the first hundred limbs) but non the less tarantino has done an amazing job on this movie and should be congradulated despite its faults (as every movie does have some/many)

  • Phil, I can’t see what’s gained by personal insults. If you don’t agree with what a person writes or thinks about a film, or anything else, it doesn’t mean that their thoughts are ‘drivel’.
    And I’m not a professional critic and snobbery is not one of my faults, though I certainly have faults.
    I don’t happen to agree with the views of those who have praised ‘Kill Bill’ (which I’ve seen). So what?
    It’s not always necessary to go along with the crowd.
    Does that make me a snob?

    And Brady, no, I wasn’t taking a ‘post-modernist’ stance. On the contrary. A lot of pretentious crap is written and spoken under that title. I’m really a much simpler soul. If you’re interested,you can go check what I’m about on Blaugustine and my main website that it’s linked to.

    And now I think I’ll say farewell to anything further about ‘Kill Bill’.

  • Gee, Augustine, your statements typify why professional critics have such a bad reputation for snobbery. You should get paid for writing such drivel!

    You haven’t said whether or not you’ve seen Kill Bill, but it really doesn’t matter, You’re complaining about the type of movie, not the movie itself. In my opinion, this is a demonstration of why all major publications ought to have more than one reviewer: you just don’t send a Remains of the Day fan to review 28 Days Later, you know?

  • Are you looking at Tarantino’s work in a postmodernistic view?

    “What I object to is the putting on a pedestal and thereby giving power to the products of manipulative imaginations, which then are multiplied in hundreds of carbon copies by those who imitate them, believing that they are being ‘stylish’ or original.”

    sounds a lot like this.

  • Sorry folks, I stick to my argument.
    The metaphor was right on:
    “Holy” (worshipable)
    “Shit” (excrement)
    The worship of excrement does take place and nowhere more than in films like Tarantino’s.
    And I’m not ignorant of art nor am I in favor of censorship or of blandness.

    I’m a professional artist , art teacher and writer and I understand:
    “…the many layers of meaning in human discourse…”
    These layers are part of my work and my view of the world.

    What I object to is the putting on a pedestal and thereby giving power to the products of manipulative imaginations, which then are multiplied in hundreds of carbon copies by those who imitate them, believing that they are being ‘stylish’ or original.
    What minimal talent Tarantino has is blown up out of all proportion by the hype and the marketing and the money that surrounds the whole industry.

  • What Eric said-:). I believe Michelle meant, ‘like, wow, man!’ Let’s not read too much into a phrase.

    I watch some violent movies, including sci-fi, with no desire to participate in violence at all. (Haven’t been in a fight since junior high school, thank you.) The appeal can be the story, such as the Alien series, the directorial skills, the acting, cinematography, etc. All fiction requires a suspension of disbelief. I think one just does more suspending when the material is far out.

    Speaking of far out material, Bat Boy opens in Portland at the end of the month. I intend to turn it into a group romp.

  • Eric Olsen

    Augustine, I understand your concerns but I am not sure how much is gained by taking things that are not meant literally, literally. There are many layers of meaning in human discourse – of which “art” (in the broadest sense) and language are two key forms of expression. I think Michele’s meaning is fairly clear here – it’s a transgressive utterance expressing a powerful reaction to something out of the ordinary.

  • “The only thing that first came to mind when the movie ended was: Holy Shit.”

    Interesting that you use those two words: ‘holy’ and ‘shit’, confirming precisely what I posted at my own site, and here too, about the cult of horror. The worship of shit.
    And Tarantino, one of the spoiled brat high priests of that cult, running around hysterically with his guns and sabres while the worshippers applaud.

  • I am intrigued by all the buzz surrounding the film, but blood and violence just are not my cup of tea, however stylishly they are presented. That said, I hope it does well, because Tarantino is a gifted filmmaker.

  • Excellent movie, Tarantino at his best.

    This movie kept me interested, intrigued, shocked, grossed out, teased, everything. The manner in which Tarantino plays with his audience is fascinating. When the movie ended I wanted more.

    After all the crap that has come into the theater over the past year, this gave me hope that there are still creative and interesting films being made. Can’t wait until Jan. either.

  • tjkkenn

    I’m a fan of QT and much admire his earlier films, but sorry sports fans, Kill Bill is a tedious piece of junk. That Tarantino planned at one point to release both “volumes” as one three-hour film is astonishing. After the first hundred severed limbs, I couldn’t stop yawning. With its inexorable cartoon violence; the predictable BS posturing of virtually every major character; and the obvious trajectory of its threadbare plot, Bill is technically flawless, emotionally antiseptic, and dramatically dormant. Clearly, QT has spent himself. To be fair, Reservoir Dogs was a masterpiece; Pulp Fiction, audacious and brilliant…tick tock tick tock… Then Jackie Brown, a nice adaptation, but hardly earth shaking. And now comes Bill, which owes everything to cheesy, grade-C, 1970s Japanese fight-flicks. Buckets of blood and meat-grinding mayhem do not of themselves make for scintillating cinema. The trick that eludes Tarantino is how to keep the viewers’ attention while he attempts a hybrid of Seven Samauri and the World Wrestling Federation. The sensual aspects alone should have been enough to sustain interest, but no. Ultimately, Bill becomes an exercise in fever-pitched tedium. Perfecting the cinematic equivalent of crap is hardly an achievement, no matter how well-crafted the montages.