Quentin Tarantino’s original masterpiece, this film shows us what the director was capable of doing. The success of Reservoir Dogs on the Indie circuit elevated his credibility to the point where he acquired the funding to create his magnum opus, Pulp Fiction. Tarantino’s style is still in the refining stages here, and compared to Pulp Fiction, Dogs is grittier and less polished. But what do you expect from a first time indie director who learned all he knows about movies from working at a video store?
The thing that makes this movie stand out the most is the way it is told. Dogs covers the before and after events of a botched bank robbery. We never actually see the robbery and what makes it go wrong. Tarantino leaves that one gap for us to fill in with our imaginations. This is novel and at the same time risky. It pushes the edge of the fourth wall, but doesn’t tear it down completely. He merely gives us a chance to imagine part of the details. It’s subtle, but genius.
As far as themes go, Reservoir Dogs is about trust. There are several underlying themes and symbols throughout the movie, but trust is by far the biggest. Honor also plays a large factor into why some of the characters are thrust into their situations. While seemingly ultra-violent, the movie is also an examination of the male psyche. In a group of men unknown to each other, there are plenty of egos to flaunt and Alpha Male issues.
Other big pluses are sharp, witty writing that makes you question the archetypal brainless gangster, and Steve Buscemi (who excels in every one of his film roles). Despite some unrealistic parts (Mr. Orange would not have been able stay conscious after losing that much blood), the film is tense and a terrific first effort from one of the quirkiest directors in Hollywood.
PS- You’ll never be able to hear “Stuck in the Middle with You” again without thinking of this movie.
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.