PULP FICTION
A film review by Jeff Pidgeon
Copyright 1994 Jeff Pidgeon
If you're pressed for time, I'll start by saying that PULP FICTION is the only one of the three that I recommend. It has many of the classic Tarantino trademarks--the climactic multi-pistoled stalemate, the period pop soundtrack, the multitude of junk-culture references both verbal and visual, a clever sense of story structure, and of course ... the violence.
The level of on-screen violence is up a little from RESERVOIR DOGS, but in general I didn't feel that it was a gratuitously violent film, as I did with NATURAL BORN KILLERS or TOTAL RECALL. In general, the level is about what you would expect of a "hard-R" film these days, although there are two se- quences--one involving a pawn shop, another an accidental overdose--that I don't think anyone (whether they like the film or not) will forget anytime soon. I recommend talking to a few viewers if you're unsure ... if you can trust them not to reveal plot points.
PULP FICTION is a three-part story, each of the parts working their way back together (to a degree) towards the finish. As with RESERVOIR DOGS. I really enjoy how Tarantino messes with flashback and foreward to achieve some interesting results. This is used more effectively in RESERVOIR DOGS, but it works well again here. It's also surprising how Tarantino keeps PULP FICTION from seeming stale in spite of the many similarities with his first film. The characters and situations are consistently amusing or tense (or both). The dialogue, if a bit larded with pop culture references, is clever and entertaining (one of my favorite things about Tarantino films is the small talk). The performances are strong across the board--Bruce Willis is fine even if he is leaning on his washed-up-fill-in-occupation-of-your-choice thing. Delivery and timing of dialog is great, with more quotable lines in a single screenplay than I've heard in a long time. Particlarly strong is Samuel Jackson, who seems delighted to be away from JUASSIC PARK. The running time (2:40) is long, but it comes just shy of wearing out its welcome--I came out well sated, but not fed up. The surf-pop score supports the film nicely and gives it an additional energy to add to the, uh, fun. A minus is the constant stream of racial epithets, which made me uncomfortable after a while. One might come out of this wishing that Tarantino would knock off the Madonna lines and do something a little more mature. Hey, give him time. Hopefully, he's got a whole career ahead of him. Recommended.
-- - Jeff Pidgeon
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