I can see why this movie didn’t do so well for Quentin Tarantino. This was his third full length directorial effort, but his first adapted screen play. His first two films, Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction were written by him and thus had his personal style oozing from all corners. With Jackie Brown, he adapted a book, limiting what he could do with the characters and story. There’s not as much Tarantino flair in this one.
That’s not to say this film isn’t good. By all means, Jackie Brown is the classiest movie he’s made so far in his career. It’s a culmination of shout-outs to film noir and blaxploitation films. Tarantino injects the film with a real sense of style, making it the most believable of his films.
Brown resurrects the career of Pam Grier (of Foxy Brown fame) as a flight attendant mixed up with crooks and the law, and features some very spirited and unlikely performances from its cast. Samuel L. Jackson channels the same type of character he made in Pulp Fiction (but more criminally bent), Michael Keaton plays a conniving cop very well, and Robert DeNiro amazed me with his ability to steal the show by not stealing the show as a perpetually stoned and mumbling supporting character.
After reigning supreme for a few years as the indie film industry’s wunderkind, perhaps Jackie Brown was Tarantino’s attempt at legitimizing himself to the rest of Hollywood. It seems to work, because the end product is top notch, although not as boisterous and ingenious as his previous films, but surely not a slump either. Sadly, Tarantino turned his back on this kind of hybrid between indie spirit and Hollywood class and returned to over-the-top silliness with Kill Bill.
Jackie Brown is a quality product that only a fool would consider a blemish on Tarantino’s resume.
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