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Tarantino’s Reservoir Dog: Legacy
Quentin Tarantino, the last great American film director, surprised Hollywood last night when he backed out of his 10th and supposedly last movie, The Critic.
No reason was given for the departure from the movie, which had already cast Brad Pitt in the titular role of a second-string film critic who wrote for a porno mag (based on a real critic Tarantino read in the 70’s). Critic was to mark his final feature as he eased into his sixties.
It’s a great idea for a flick — especially for Tarantino, who was always a little jealous he didn’t make Paul Thomas Anderson’s Boogie Nights. It’s set in the greatest era of humanity, the 1970s, in the greatest biz in humanity, show, and includes porn. Check, check and check.
Only problem is that The Critic was always meant to be his penultimate film, not the grand exit that became Once Upon A Time…In Hollywood. And the hard truth is that whatever he chooses as his cinematic farewell, it faces a steep headwind to overshadow Hollywood. Maybe impossible.
Critic stood to be Tarantino’s most personal film, and that may have led to the director “simply changing his mind,” according to Deadline, which broke the piece.
Personal movies give us a glimpse into the life of the filmmaker. Think American Graffiti and George Lucas; Almost Famous and Cameron Crowe; Dazed and Confused and Richard Linklater. We got to go to cinematic high school with these guys. But none work as swan songs. Just the opposite: The glimpse left us wanting to know more.
By contrast, it feels like Quentin never left high school: All of his movies brim with loud and proud geek proclamations — namely his love of all things Hollywood, from TV to kung fu to blaxploitation.
It’s made Tarantino a legend among millennials, a historian among audiences younger than 50, and a headline among film writers when he says anything of note about his forebears like Coppola, Scorsese and De Palma. Tarantino’s personal film was True Romance (or at least how he’d like to be seen), and he was the writer, not director.
Tarantino told Deadline he’s not interested in re-writing the movie, even though Sony already sank a reported $20 million in pre-production. Perhaps he saw how anti-climactic a small-scale story could compare to his re-writing of the Manson murders and birth of Hollywood’s most daring era.
Tarantino didn’t help himself by announcing (and echoing ad nauseam) that he would leave the industry after his 10th film. He said he didn’t want to become one of those directors who worked well past their prime and now made schlock for a paycheck.
Fair enough, but time will flatten a man. And I’m sure, when Hollywood was hitting the publicity circuit back during its release 2019, another movie, another circuit, another day in the slog, seemed far off.
Now it’s here. Now it’s pushed back.
I think myopia killed The Critic. Tarantino once told me he writes his screenplays longhand, so he can fully immerse in the story. Perhaps he was so immersed in writing Hollywood that he didn’t see what an epic farewell ride he had crafted. How do you craft the perfect “bye” when the “good” was great?
This is not at all a call to finish the 10th movie and be done with it. I want Quentin to go Kubrick on our asses and direct till he drops. And if anyone knows how to make an impression in a theater, it’s Tarantino. His swan song may be as sublime as his debut.
But this “final film” trade buzz was never the stuff of a good Tarantino story. Give us some blood, guts and sexuality not suitable for all audiences, and we’ll happily sit stuck in the middle with you.
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‘Zone of Interest’: The Return of Horror Radio
Between the pandemic, studio greed and America’s love of franchise, Hollywood has become a bit of a bedazzled cadaver: bloated, leaky, beginning to rot as summer heat approaches. But the makeup is perfect.
But Covid brought new life to other forms of sequestered living. Television is in a new golden era. Streaming created a new Hollywood power broker, the influencer. And everyone and their drunk half-cousin started a podcast.
America’s audio revival could not have come sooner. True Crime is as popular a genre in the U.S. as, well, true crime as an activity. And none come truer — or more horrific — than The Zone of Interest, a rare movie that is more powerful audibly than visually. It’s radio theater with virtual reality effects. This is a movie to be experienced twice: once with captions; once without.
Directed by Jonathan Glazer (Sexy Beast); Zone examines the real-life commandant of Auschwitz, Rudolf Höss, and his wife Hedwig, who strive to build a dream life for their family in a house and garden next to the camp.
In a sublime decision, Zone doesn’t show a single death. Instead, it pulls a reverse Schindler’s List, the Oscar-winning masterpiece that was shot entirely in black and white, save for one Jewish girl in a red dress.
Here, we get muted colors, and the Jewish girl in a dress is cast in negative-contrast light as she rushes to feed her Polish village by sneaking food under the cloak of night.
More moving, though, is the sound that undergirds Zone. As Hedwig explains the garden to her mother-in-law, we hear the anguished cries of women and children being herded to the gas chambers (more than 1.1 million died in Auschwitz) just beyond the garden wall. As Joseph goes bird hunting on the grounds, we hear the crack of executional gunfire. The steady grind of the crematoriums is a nauseating white noise.
Some critics, particularly young ones, have dismissed the film as a foley stunt in an overdone genre. Conservative douche Ben Shapiro raked it for not showing a single Jewish death.
Apparently, Ben didn’t get the point of the story. Zone takes an intentionally clinical look at the task of murdering millions, from the paperwork to transportation to counting cash and gold-filled teeth. That the words then find purchase now is downright chilling.
It makes for a terrifying cacophony.
