A Quentin Tarantino film is one of the few things that gets me banging on the fleapit door, fingernails gauging the woodwork, peeling the rust off the hinges. This one came a bit out of the blue as I was expecting the release of Grindhouse, QT’s old-style double feature with Robert Rodriguez. I knew that Grindhouse had bombed in the US but assumed that it would still come out in Europe in the same format as us Europeans can be relied on to sit in one place for three hours without pissing ourselves. Apparently that is not going to happen. Fingers crossed all the same.
I didn’t know much about the film up front, apart from Kurt Russell getting a kick out of crashing cars, which was a surprise when I came to watch it as he didn’t seem to get that much of a kick out of it and there were only a couple of crashes. We get a lot of QT talk, although it’s not the best his written, and a bad cameo from the man himself. And a couple of shit-hot car chases, a girl just about clinging on to the bonnet and a whole bunch of foul-mouthed foxes.
Reviews in the film press rate this higher than I do. This is Tarantino at his most indulgent, with his most niche film yet.
Oh, and no word yet on a release date for Planet Terror, the Rodriguez part of Grindhouse. It might just have to be one for DVD.