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| April 8, 2007 |
| Exciting 'Grindhouse' a wild ride |
When filmmakers talk about how great the movies were back in the 1970s, they're usually thinking about "The Godfather," "Chinatown," or "Dog Day Afternoon."
But when Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez wax lyrical about that period, they have something else in mind: Filipino shoot-'em-ups, Italian slasher films, Mexican vigilante movies and Roger Corman girls-behind-bars flicks. This kind of exploitation cheapie would play on the drive-in circuit or in seedy inner-city theaters, promising sleazy thrills and no refunds.
Those days are gone, and "Grindhouse" -- the directors' supercharged attempt to resurrect the illicit B-movie double feature -- will have to play sterile, sanitary multiplexes alongside such respectable mainstream fare as "Wild Hogs," "TMNT" and "300," all of which wear the imprint of exploitation cinema with pride (the biker movie, kung fu picture and gorefest, respectively).
The truth is, the trash movies Tarantino champions have long since gone mainstream, albeit with bigger budgets and watered down for MPAA approval. That goes for "Grindhouse" too, which cost a reported $50 million to produce, and which anyone under the age of 17 can enjoy with an enabling adult in tow.
Still, the dynamic duo do their utmost to transport us back to the good old bad old days: the package includes irresistible faux trailers for Rob Zombie's "Werewolf Women of the SS" and Eli Roth's seasonal slasher movie "Thanksgiving," among others.
In the first feature, Rodriguez's "Planet Terror" -- a campy contribution to the zombie genre -- the director (who shot on digital) has gone to the trouble of defacing his print, adding the scratches, warp and weave you would expect from beaten-up second-run celluloid. (Tarantino very pointedly shot on film, but has a harder time replicating the effect.) At one key point he even cuts to a "Reel Missing" slide, making for one of the best jokes of the film.
Adolescents of all ages will get a kick out of Rose McGowan's voluptuous one-legged go-go dancer, Cherry, stomping around with a submachine gun stuck into her stump. Apparently she can fire at will, without the bother of manually pulling the trigger. (It's that kind of picture.) She's the linchpin in an unlikely band of survivors battling it out with rampaging flesh-eating mutants in a Tex-Mex border town. |
posted by viraks @ 5:51:00 AM  |
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