Pulp Fiction (1994)

Written and directed by: Quentin Tarantino

I recently watched Pulp Fiction for the second time.  It had been a while, so I had a managed to forget a major part of the film. Were Samuel L. Jackson and John Travolta’s characters secret agents or criminals? The answer of course is the latter, but the confusion speaks to why the film stands out in the Tarantino cannon.

Graphic violence is a constant in Tarantino’s filmography. What varies is who carries out the violence and why. In Reservoir Dogs its crime: plain and simple. In Django Unchained and Inglorious Bastards its violence in the name of emancipation. Pulp Fiction, is also quick to draws its guns, an instantly familiar image to those who’ve seen Reservoir Dogs. But while the image is the same, the tone is different. Pulp Fiction’s first gun holders are a pair of comedic robbers (Tim Roth and Amanda Plummer) who seem unlikely to actually fire. Their violence is followed up by that of the mysterious suited duo of Jules and Vincent (Jackson and Travolta). The pair banter about French McDonald’s and the bible before caring out a shocking operation.

Films can both bore on account of being predictable, and on account of being inaccessible. Pulp Fiction’s plot structure strikes a perfect balance between the two. The thieves introduced in its opening scenes don’t end up being major characters. Then Vincent and Jules are introduced as a duo. Then Jules disappears. Then, as Vincent disappears, Bruce Willis appears. Then he too disappears. As far as story goes the film is a mess, and with a length of two hours and thirty-four minutes, its a long mess at that. But while its overall plot arc borders on the abstract, all of Pulp Fiction’s individual scenes are clear and vivid. And while the film is a slow burner, that slowness is not wasted on meandering dialogue and fights, but on colorful joy (Travolta and Uma Thurman’s iconic Chuck Berry dance) and shocking horror.

Tarantino argues that his shocking violence is “fun.” But what makes it fun? Sure there’s entertainment to be found in the shocking, but when the shock reaches levels where one questions one’s enjoyment of it (as is the case with Reservoir Dogs) that feeling of fun is undermined. On the flip side, when a film implies that its very much ok to revel in the shocking (Django and Inglorious Bastards), it is as if the shock white-washes itself, and loses some of its entertainment value in the process.

Pulp Fiction is not one of Tarantino’s films with a conscious, but it is one of his films with heart. And at its heart lies Samuel L. Jackson, a man who doesn’t so much act, as play with his already fun lines. This is not to say that Jackson fails at acting, but rather that he understands that acting is not precisely what was wanted of him in the context of Pulp Fiction.Tarantino is a referential filmmaker: referential to himself, and referential to the ideas of violence and cinema. Through his character Jackson shocks us with the macabre. He isn’t nihilistic about his violence, nor does he whitewash it: he has fun with it.

As I conclude my review, I realize that I must recommend Pulp Fiction with great hesitation. To those unfamiliar with Tarantino, it will prove a shocking viewing experience indeed. And perhaps, as was the case with yours truly, the great vocal uniqueness of Pulp Fiction won’t come out until you can compared it to its peers in the Tarantino cannon. That said, the film is one of unforgettable dialogue. For every ugly threat there’s a whimsical wish, like the innocent Fabienne’s (Maria de Medeiros) yearning for “a pot [belly].” Its the experience of the arthouse with all the prestige, yet none of the propriety. So if you’re not faint at heart, why not give this classic a try?

Mission Impossible: Fallout (2018)

Written and directed by: Christopher McQuarrie

Occasionally I push myself to challenge my biases and go see an action movie. Sometimes, maybe it’s a mood thing, I somehow find myself enjoying them. Mission Impossible: 6 was one such movie. I now find myself trying to figure out what was appealing about it. Part of it no doubt was that protagonist Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) was accompanied by two less macho sidekicks (Luther Stickell (Ving Rhames) and Benji Dunn (Simon Pegg)), making it endearing in much the same way as Disney animated movies.

The sidekicks as individual characters, however, are not all that memorable. Dunn is a good-kind-of-misfit in the work and is part of a couple decent gags, but there’s not much to write home about him. Stickell meanwhile is charming and a subtler misfit, but again, he’s nothing to write home about. Luckily, these characters are not the be all and end all of the film’s comedic elements. Mission Impossible 6 is, of course, ridden with fight scenes. While many of these can be described as performances of traditional action ambition, I could not help but get a whiff of comedy out of some them. There is one scene in which Hunt and CIA Agent Walker (Henry Caville), fight an enemy target in a bathroom. The fight seems easy at first, but when it is disrupted by some immature, passerby men, the enemy suddenly regains form. What proceeds from there is an extended sequence in which a high stakes, high tech fight is somehow carried out with fists and a urinal pipe.

The subtle comedy of Mission Impossible 6 is complimented by its surprisingly high dialogue to action ration (at least in its first two thirds) as well as an absurd sequence in which plot twist after plot twist is thrown upon each other (eventually its gets absurd, but it’s largely an engaging moment). None of this is enough for me to describe Mission Impossible 6 as a comedy, but comedy is certainly an ingredient in the Mission Impossible stew.

And ingredients, are what I think makes this movie work. It’s a film that offers a little bit of something for everybody, and even if those somethings aren’t always top notch, they give the film an engaging enough texture to make is exiting for those who might be bored by other action flicks.

Mission Impossible 6’s little-bit-of-everything approach is largely effective, but it creates odd results as well. The film’s villains are described as anarchists, and in the opening scene, one rants at Hunt & crew with delirious, but moral conviction, insisting they share his manifesto with the world. The idea that these characters are idealists is repeated throughout the film, yet it’s never fully developed. Meanwhile, Hunt & co. ignore their ideals, treating and discussing them as purely evil beings. It is as if the film’s writer thought: a lot of viewers want to see complex and sympathetic villains, but a lot more viewers just want a tradition good-vs-evil smash-off. The result is that the film caters a bit to both crowds. As I said, this approach works: the supposed complexity of the villains no doubt left me a bit more engaged by the evil, even as the logical part of my brain was left frustrated by the fact that the villain’s motifs were never properly elaborated on or made truly sympathetic.

The character of Hunt is similarly written as complicated-but-not. An early tension in the film is that Hunt values the lives of his friends even when doing so could compromise his mission. This supposed idealism puts him at odds with the CIA. While this detail comes across as potentially interesting when raised at the beginning and end of the film, it also feels phoney as it never really describes Hunt’s character. He comes across as a largely generic, calmly calculated, cool-with-violence action hero.

Mission Impossible 6 is, in short, a bit fraudulent. I use that word as an observation not an insult. It is undoubtedly very good, but parts of its quality comes from the fact that it poses as a “smart movie.” It is not ,ideas wise at least, a deep work, but it goes to show that sometimes even hinting at having ideas can make your movie effective. At the same time, it leaves me longing for a Mission Impossible like movie that could be as ambitious about its themes as about its stunts.