Grindhouse

Year Released: 2007
Directed By: Robert Rodriguez, Quentin Tarantino
Starring: Rose McGowan, Marley Shelton, Freddy Rodriguez, Josh Brolin, Jeff Fahey, Michael Biehn, Naveen Andrews, Kurt Russell, Sydney Poitier, Jordan Ladd, Vanessa Ferlito, Zoë Bell, Rosario Dawson, Tracie Thoms, Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Michael Parks, Danny Trejo, Bruce Willis, Quentin Tarantino
(R, 191 min.)

More than just a fun three hours at the movies, Grindhouse is a total immersion into movie geekdom, in which the packaging, marketing, lore, and accumulative experience are as much a part of the deal as the images that are up on the screen. If they could, I suspect Rodriguez and Tarantino would design their own grind-house movie chain of theatres that would re-create the urban scuzz-holes of the past, which ran cheap movies nonstop – a usually eclectic mix of exploitation, horror, and action films, as well as a random assortment of top studio product that had seen better days and more intact prints. As it is, Grindhouse is an homage to an experience rather than any certain type of film, and with its two separate feature films – “Planet Terror” by Rodriguez and “Death Proof” by Tarantino – a host of tongue-in-cheeky trailers by the likes of Rob Zombie, Edgar Wright, and Eli Roth; scratches and notices of missing reels intentionally inserted into the prints in order to heighten the illusion of the celluloid’s sprocket-weary authenticity; a splashy two-for-the-price-of-one marketing campaign; and enough cast members to keep the talk-show couches on permanent rotation, Grindhouse raises the bar for a certain kind of movie lollapalooza (and also for the kind of filmmaker who is also a showman, along the lines of a William Castle or Cecil B. DeMille). It’s this injection of playfulness and fun and attention to the entire moviegoing gestalt that will probably become Grindhouse’s lasting contribution to movie history rather than any on-the-screen content of the movie itself. Ultimately, “Planet Terror” and “Death Proof” are as transient and expendable as the movies they ape (which is meant as a tribute to their authenticity rather than a put-down). Of course, by now, everyone in Austin knows that Grindhouse was filmed here last summer, and part of the local fun will derive from the sight of and references to familiar locations in Tarantino’s section, whose first half is set in Austin. First up, however, is Rodriguez’s “Planet Terror,” a zombie barrage that begins with some pus and guts and builds to an all-out Armageddon between the humans and zombies. Rodriguez again proves that he’s a brilliant action director, making those of us who wish he would give at least equal attention to his scripts seem churlish for desiring more storyline when he’s able to invent a set-piece as good as that of a leading lady who has a machine gun for a leg (McGowan). Tarantino’s half is harder to judge within its Grindhouse context, as “Death Proof” is practically two discrete movies in itself – the first part a talky jamboree of girls’ night out and the second a gloriously staged car chase/vengeance film, which plays like a demented filmmaker/fan’s love offering to stuntwoman Zoë Bell (who is showcased here doing her own stunts) and the non-Disney career of Kurt Russell (who plays a badass called Stuntman Mike in both “Death Proof” segments). Following the zombie rampage of “Planet Terror” and the crazed momentum of the whacked-out trailers and fake ads, the detail-rich dialogue of Tarantino’s girls-night-out segment becomes an unfortunate victim of the adrenaline-fueled madness that precedes it. Then an abrupt change of place and characters, linked only by the centrality of Stuntman Mike in both segments, leads directly into the near-wordless muscle-car mayhem that consumes the second half of “Death Proof. ” I imagine that somewhere down the line we’ll get to see “Death Proof” and “Planet Terror” as stand-alone DVD releases with lots of extras, which is the point at which we’ll get a better handle on how Tarantino’s film plays without the pacing predicament of this combo release. Grindhouse holds a wealth of opportunities for potential DVD releases in the future: Don’t be surprised to see whole movies spun out from some of the trailers or characters (Trejo’s Machete and Poitier’s Jungle Julia seem likely candidates) or a special directors’ cut version that restores the missing reels and “remasters” out the splices and scratches. Rodriguez and Tarantino are nothing if not inexhaustible masters of movie revivification. (For more about Grindhouse, see p.56 of this week’s Screens section.)

Originally printed in the Austin Chronicle by Marjorie Baumgarten [2007-04-06]

Zack Snyder’s “300” is noteworthy because it’s going to be one of the most commercially successful films of the year.    Based on Frank Miller’s graphic novel about the Battle of Thermopylae in 470BC, it recounts the efforts of several hundred Greeks (mostly Spartans) to fight the enormous Persian army of King Xerxes to a standstill.    LIke the heroes of the Alamo, these men die with their sandals on, fighting to the last man, and ultimately inspiring subsequent armies to carry on their battle to a victorious conclusion.

More than anything, “300” resembles a comic book.   As in “Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow” and “Sin City,” live actors are drawn over and then placed in a sketched out background.    The effect is that we recognize the actors, but they don’t look like their real selves.    Though visually stunning, the comic book quality is regrettably reflected in every other aspect of the film.   Characters are either heroic or base.    The fight scenes involve creatures that don’t really exist and battle skills that defy gravity.    Men spend most of their time screaming in cliches.   The ultimate effect is like watching the best of modern film technology applied to a Steve Reeves Italian clunker from the 1950’s.    To be sure, “300” looks great and the action scenes are exciting.   It’s an enjoyable two hours.   But that begs the question of its huge success, and how it fits into the landscape of other films about male comraderie.

As “300” careens towards $200 million of domestic box office, it has inspired a host of explanations for its popularity.    It’s a stirring defense of the war in Iraq, as the Greeks fight for “reason” and against “mysticism.”   It’s a critique of the war in Iraq, as the Persian hordes with their numbers and technology represent the immense American war machine.   It’s a racist attack on Persians meant to pave the way for our next military intervention in Iran.    It’s a fascist celebration of hyper-nationalism, militarism, racism, xenophobia, and adoration of a charismatic leader.   It’s a rendering of the sensibility of World Wide Wrestling- with uber-muscled, scantily clad men.   And of course there seems to be a homo-erotic quality to all of this male bonding, touching, hand-holding, piercing, and long, soulful looks.  But, I think that “300” isn’t nearly as homosexually situated as the average contemporary buddy films and romances.

“300” celebrates the male bonding that is found in most war and sports movies.   What gives those films their homosexual subtext is less the sweating, shirtless males working together for victory.   Rather it’s the unstated assumption that unlike the men, none of the women in these men’s lives will ever really grasp this singularly important, defining experience.    Whatever these men and their future wives share, the women will just never “get it.”   However, in war and sports films, the men still hunger for a life of normalcy- settling down and raising a family with their female soulmate.     But that fantasy of living happily ever after with your true love has little emotional resonance in contemporary buddy films and  romances: think The Break Up, Failure to Launch, Old School, Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle, American Pie.

It wasn’t always so.    In ’50’s and ’60’s films, the emotional relationship that men craved was with a woman.   Then two films undermined that assumption.   For the artier crowd, “Diner” depicted male friendships as deeper than anything that a man could share with a woman.   For the mass audience, the same message was abundantly clear with Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.   No woman could ever be as perfect for Redford or Newman as they were for each other.

Yet in those films, there was still a kind of true love.    The guys in Diner were in love with each other, not with guys generically.    Butch and Sundance were perfect only for each other.    But then came Doug Liman, Kevin Smith, John Favreau and others, and they created something entirely new.    Guys didn’t really want to be with women.   Nor did they need to be with the true-love-best-friends of their youth.   Almost any guy would do.  And almost any guy was better than any woman.

In terms of what seemed important in a relationship: understanding, companionship, support, nurturing, fun, shared priorities- men could provide this better than women.   Moreover, the existentially bedrock experiences of life were about guys and their own fathers and sons.   The emotional logic of contemporary buddy films is that guys would be so much happier if they shared their lives with guys.   It’s not that men are commitment phobic.   They’re phobic about being intimate with women when the best of life’s experiences are those shared with other guys.    In these films, women are valued primarily as sexual partners and status symbols.

Women often have a more valued role in sports and war films.   In “300,” the Spartan queen is not only gorgeous and a fabulous lover, but she also strongly supports the values of her husband and the Spartan men.    But in contemporary buddy films and romances, the woman often wants to come between a guy and his friends.   Her desire to domesticate and tame is not new.   But her desire to separate him from his most important emotional ties seems especially damning.   The revealing exceptions are the Minnie Drivers in films like Good Will Hunting, where the woman both respects the relationships between male friends and is herself “one of the guys.”

In most war and sport films, the defining battle or game is something only guys can share.   But there’s still the longing for heterosexually living happily ever after.   But in a wide array of buddy and romance movies- it’s clear that these guys would be happier living with other guys.    Heterosexually driven to be with women, their sexuality becomes a curse.

Based on the novel “The Golden Man” by Philip K. Dick and Directed by Lee Tamahori (Die Another Day), NEXT features
Nicolas Cage, Julianne Moore, Jessica Biel, Thomas Kretschmann, Tory Kittles, and

Peter Falk. NEXT is also co-produced by Cage, who has starred in such box office hits as National Treasure, Gone in Sixty Seconds, Con Air, and Face/Off. NEXT is slated for theatrical release on April 27, 2007.

A potpourri of magic, terrorism and a built-in nuclear holocaust threatening to unleash itself, NEXT is focused around Cris Johnson (or should we say, “Magic” Johnson?) – a showroom magician from Las Vegas.

Cris has a secret gift which is not as menacing as the multiplier-effect of “The Prestige,” but equally tormenting with its limitations as well as potential. Cris Johnson has the ability to peek into the future, but only a few minutes into it. It’s difficult to change the future if all you got are a few minutes, right? Still there are things he can influence the outcome of, hence the extreme interest of certain organizations in his abilities, with their own vested interests.

Fed up by the interest-overkill in his unnatural gift by the outside world – government and medical establishment, and the numerous examinations he underwent as a child — he goes underground. Maintaining a low profile under an assumed name in Vegas, he gets by, performing cheap tricks and living off small-time gambling “winnings”. But especially gifted people are also especially “wanted” — in this case, for a big-time requirement.

Everything is fine until a terrorist group threatens to detonate a nuclear device in Los Angeles. The countdown to extinction begins and time is running out. Government agent Callie Ferris uses all of her smiles and wiles to weed out and corner Cris to convince the tormented hero into helping her stop the imminent cataclysm and beat the ticking clock. Cris is ultimately faced with the daunting choice of saving the world or — hold your breath — the woman he loves. Ah, is that cliché or what? And all that in just under a couple of hours!

An action thriller, NEXT was shot in Los Angeles. Gary Goldman, Executive Producer, told Variety, “This is a movie that translates the excitement of the videogame experience into cinema.”

NEXT, is a Saturn Films/Broken Road Production, with Gary Goldman, Jason Koornick, and Ben Waisbren as Executive Producers. It is produced by Nicolas Cage, Norm Golightly, Todd Garner, Arne L. Schmidt and Graham King.

Next Movie : Official Movie Site from Paramount Pictures.

About the Author

Ben Padnos is an Internet Enterpreneur based in Manhattan Beach, California and enjoys writing on various subjects. You can reach him at DONE! SEO Services.