Pulp Fiction (1994)

4 out of 4

Starring: John Travolta, Samuel L Jackson, Bruce Willis, Uma Thurman, Ving Rhames, Tim Roth, Amanda Plummer, Quentin Tarantino, Harvey Keitel

Director: Quentin Tarantino

Time: 154 mins

One of my greatest oversights is not having watched Pulp Fiction in the 6 years since its release in 1994. I wasn't a regular cinema-goer back then, and once it became this trendy, hip, must-see, full-of-hype, "in" movie, I didn't really feel like renting the video. Another reason was that I had seen Reservoir Dogs (1992), director Quentin Tarantino's first effort, and I feared that, like its title, Pulp Fiction had become commercialised and crowd-pleasing. Reservoir Dogs was a powerful, if structurally flawed film, made by a debutante with lots of style and bravado. Would his second film suffer the sophomore jinx?

Well, I've recently fixed this glaring omission in the list of films I have watched, and I'm glad to say that its stature and all the glowing reviews are well-deserved. Pulp Fiction is one of the most original films I've seen in a long while. Its structure may be even more loose than in Reservoir Dogs (I thought the many flashbacks in Dogs dissipated the growing tension in more than a few scenes), but it works beautifully. Tarantino tells his story in a non-linear fashion, switching from one point of view to another, jumping forward and backward in time, taking right-angled leaps into uncharted territory, and yet leaves us satisfied, energised, and even gasping and laughing by the time the credits roll. He nonchalantly disposes of characters, makes them menacing, yet sympathetic and even comical. Pulp Fiction employs brilliant writing (script by Tarantino and Roger Avary), with razor-sharp dialogue that cuts and is often very funny. Profanity is prevalent, but is (dare I say it) almost a part of the charm. I actually watched about 20 minutes of this film when it screened on TV sometime last year, but switched channels when I knew it would be butchered by censors for its swearing and violence. I'm glad I made that choice, for Pulp Fiction without swearing and blood is like The Seven Samurai without swords.

The film opens with a conversation in a breakfast diner, and ends in the same breakfast diner. In between, we have several story threads that, at first, seem unrelated to each other, but the links become clearer as the film progresses. The first thread involves Vincent Vega (Travolta) and Jules Winnfield (Jackson), two hitmen on a mission to retrieve a briefcase for their boss, Marsellus Wallace (Rhames). The second has Vincent escorting Marsellus' wife, Mia (Thurman), to a night out at a theme restaurant. The third follows the story of Butch Coolidge (Willis), a boxer who has been paid by Marsellus to throw a fight. And the fourth has Vincent and Jules trying to get themselves out of a bind (and a blood-spattered car). As previously mentioned, the plot doesn't unfold in a linear fashion. There's one scene where Vincent and Jules return the briefcase to Marsellus, dressed not in their usual impeccable suit and tie, but T-shirt and shorts. It seems odd at that point, but the reason why isn't clear until near the end. In Tarantino's usual manner, all sorts of philosophical discussions occur between the characters, ranging from the name of McDonald's burgers in France to uncomfortable silences and the filthiness of pigs. These riffs remind one of Kevin Smith (Dogma) and his musings, though interspersed with more swear words than Smith has probably ever put on page. Indeed, there are so many conversations about "nothing" that one is reminded of Jerry Seinfeld's TV series, in a way.

After the gruesome Reservoir Dogs, one should not be shocked at Tarantino's audacity, and yet he still surprises with several moments of sheer genius and incredible tension. One involves a drug overdose, while another has Willis stealthily returning to his apartment that culminates in a disastrous detour into a disreputable store and a nasty, netherworldly nightmare. Violence and death are never far away, and the tone changes readily from normality one moment, to bone-shaking brutality and even comedy the next. Sudden changes of tone can be jarring, but the shifts in mood in Pulp Fiction are handled so well you are drawn in - yes, even seduced - into the protagonists' vicious world. Death and blood is such a normal occurrence to some of these people that a death here, a blown-out brain there, is nothing extraordinary and treated almost in apathetic fashion. Does the film condone violence? No, but without it, the film's impact would not be the same.

Much has been made of the fact that Pulp Fiction marked the return of John Travolta as a major league star. In truth, he had had a big hit with the talking baby comedy Look Who's Talking (incidentally, co-starring Bruce Willis' voice) a few years previously, but its success was almost certainly not due to him. Travolta is indeed very good as Vincent, but the fact he has perhaps the most screentime of the ensemble cast also helps. His unease about escorting the boss' wife, lest he get thrown out of a window like a previous consort, is quite touching. Willis is also very good as Butch, an atypical role that requires him to be resourceful but never quite in control of the situation. That his famous smirk is rarely, if ever, flashed across the screen is testament to how different this role is for him. The standout, however, is Samuel L Jackson. His Bible-quoting, profanity-laden speeches are, by turns, hypnotic and hilarious. Jules is a no-nonsense hitman whose life is on the line every day, but a moment of revelation makes him question his profession. His manner of swearing has almost become definitive, if one is allowed to highlight such a thing. There probably aren't too many actors who can deliver the f-word as convincingly as Samuel!

The other roles are smaller but no less impressive. Roth, who was Mr Orange in Reservoir Dogs, Thurman, as Marsellus' drug addicted and alluring wife, and the imposing Rhames, as the gangster boss whose name hovers over each story thread, are perfectly fine in support. There are also memorable turns by Eric Stoltz, Rosanna Arquette, and Tarantino regulars Steve Buscemi and Harvey Keitel, as Marsellus' "problem-solver."

It would be remiss not to mention the music in Pulp Fiction. The collection of songs and instrumentals are so perfectly suited to the scenes, style and mood of the film as to almost become part of the seduction. A particular standout is when Vincent arrives to pick up Mia for their night out. Too often songs are put on a movie soundtrack to help sell the eventual CD, even though they weren't part of the film. Tarantino has chosen just the right songs for this, his magnum opus, and it makes a great film even better.

There are very few films that push the boundaries of conventional Hollywood moviemaking. Those that try are often innovative, arty or provocative just for the sake of being innovative, arty or provocative, and lose the notion of film as entertainment. Pulp Fiction is not only innovative, provocative, and high art, it is a near-perfect mix of drama, comedy, action, suspense, music, and, most of all, entertainment. Highly recommended.

(c) Joe Wong (24 May 2000)