Wednesday, April 28, 2004
Ah, the old "Venomous Snake Concealed Under a Million Dollars Cash" trick - should've seen that one coming.
Well, as much as I hate to push that last comment thread further down the page, I'm back to post again, with my promised review of Kill Bill Volume 2.
WARNING: The review in this entry contains spoilers. Those who do not wish to know what happens in Kill Bill Volume 2, do not read anything past the second paragraph (after this one). Those who don't care about it being spoiled, or who already know what happens, probably shouldn't read anything past the second paragraph either. You have been warned.
Since everybody else is doing it, what follows is my review of Kill Bill Volume 2. First, however, a note to whoever located this blog with a Google search for "Steve Smith passion webboard fucking": please me advised that you are one twisted bastard. Also, to all those of you who appear to be searching for some sort of Calgary Flames related William Hung "She Bangs" parody, you'll not find that here. Nor will you find any HOT NAKED PHOTOS OF BIVALVED MOLLUSCS or CHEAP UNDER THE TABLE VIAGRA!
Anyway, on to the review. It could be argued, convincingly, that I am not qualified to be writing this, since I've never seen Volume 1. However, the beauty of the internet is that it liberalizes the means of communication, and allows any random jackass with a computer and an ego to post his thoughts on whatever he wants. I, of course, am not just some random jackass - I am a highly specific jackass, with some highly specific opinions on Kill Bill Volume 2, which may yet be found somewhere in this entry.
Right, review. Kill Bill Volume 2 is a movie which can only be appreciated on its own terms. The problem is that it's more reluctant than a sweaty-palmed used car salesman to reveal its terms. One might assume (in the grand tradition of the pretentious, I'm using "One might assume" to mean "I assumed), from seeing the commercials, that it's a typical vengeance-action movie, and the movie's first chapters (as with the first edition, Volume 2 is divided into five cinematic chapters) seem to make a point of indulging in the genre's worst stereotypes - we get a smooth-talking villain, an unprovoked massacre, and a wildly improbably escape from a deadly situation. The last one, provided by Uma Thurman's unassisted exit from a nailed shut coffin buried six feet underground, is what led me to start mentally composing this review. Well, not *this* review - a review that declared my utter disgust for the movie, using such words as "insipid" and "hackneyed." Indeed, when Darryl Hannah decided to eliminate an adversary by hiding a Black Mamba in a suitcase full of cash, I was almost ready to walk out, offended by what I saw as the movie's lack of respect for its viewers - Hannah, remember, was playing a highly-trained assassin, yet she for some reason found it appropriate to, in assassinating another highly-trained assassin, employ one of the most needlessly risky methods available.
But then my perspective changed. As Hannah and Thurman faced off in the trailer of Bill's poisoned brother, each with one of the world's finest Katana's in her hands, and as the scene ended without a sword fight in one of the most beautifully anti-climactic moments available, with Thurman plucking out Hannah's remaining eyeball, I finally realized what I'd been missing the whole movie: Kill Bill is a comedy! And not an action-comedy in a True Lies sense, either, in which testosterone-infused bloodshed is interrupted for the occasional penis joke, or in which the muscle-bound star makes a few darkly humourous remarks before engaging in more bloodshed. No, Kill Bill is a comedy of the sort in which the "plot" is only an excuse to put the characters in new and more ludicrous situations, and in which the "characters" are only action figures to fill the ludicrous situations. As this type of movie, Kill Bill succeeds magnificently.
For starters, all the actors manage a deadpan that would do Leslie Neilsen (somebody give that man a decent script, for the love of god) proud. Chief among these performances is David Carradine's disarmingly likeable Bill - in fact, I would argue that the highlight of the entire film is the climactic (the term is used loosely, as the movie climaxes less than an eighty year old nun) scene in which Thurman's The Bride meets the daughter that she and Bill conceived before she ran off without him. Granted, it seemed that my friends (including Nathan, who this space's more devoted readers will recall for his inappropriate laughter during The Passion of the Christ) and I were the only ones in the theatre laughing as Bill explained to his child how he "shot Mommy for real," but I maintain that this is one of the funniest moments in cinema this millenium.
I said that Bill was disarmingly likeable - in fact, all of the villains are, and the audience is almost invited to develop a closer connection with them than with The Bride (connections between audience and characters are irrelevant, mind you, as they are in any good farce). This is partly due to their detachment; rather than active participants in the story, the villains seem like they're there only to play a specific role. It's not that the movie elects not to show what role they play in life besides that of antagonist, it's that the movie decides to show, quite clearly, that they play no other role. As a result, these deliberately one-dimensional characters never get in the way of the comedy. This is best illustrated early in the film when Michael Madsen, as Bill's brother Budd, remarks to the title character that The Bride "deserves her revenge, and we deserve to die." Then again, he notes, "so does she." Nothing personal about these characters' one-track efforts to kill Uma, you see, it's just how things are supposed to work - you know, for the comedy.
Another highlight, which I haven't yet managed to work into this review's flow but which bears mentioning (my decision to just stick it in is actually reflective of the movie's own style, rather than of negligence, laziness, or incompetence on my part): as The Bride attempts to carry out her final assassination for Bill, she is harassed a (female) counter-assassin, who she eventually dissuades by showing her the positive results of her pregnancy test. "Congratulations," says the counter-assassin as she edges away, gun trained on Thurman all the while. At this point, not even that liberated male that I am could resist the thought that maybe if Bill's target had employed a male, the movie would have been a whole lot shorter.
If Kill Bill Volume 2 has a weakness, it would be the denouemont - after all, as every junior high school English student knows, the denouemont follows the climax, and Kill Bill doesn't bother with one of those. It ends off sort of abruptly, knowing that after delivering two solid hours of gut-busting laughs, the audience isn't going to complain (still more evidence that the movie is a screwball comedy rather than an action movie - after all, she killed bill - what the hell else do the viewers want?). And if Tarantino doesn't have to come up with a real ending to his movie, I don't see why I should have to do so for my review.
Finally, it's been said that no review of Kill Bill would be complete without noting Gordon Liu's brilliant work as Pai Mei. Consider it noted.
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Well, as much as I hate to push that last comment thread further down the page, I'm back to post again, with my promised review of Kill Bill Volume 2.
WARNING: The review in this entry contains spoilers. Those who do not wish to know what happens in Kill Bill Volume 2, do not read anything past the second paragraph (after this one). Those who don't care about it being spoiled, or who already know what happens, probably shouldn't read anything past the second paragraph either. You have been warned.
Since everybody else is doing it, what follows is my review of Kill Bill Volume 2. First, however, a note to whoever located this blog with a Google search for "Steve Smith passion webboard fucking": please me advised that you are one twisted bastard. Also, to all those of you who appear to be searching for some sort of Calgary Flames related William Hung "She Bangs" parody, you'll not find that here. Nor will you find any HOT NAKED PHOTOS OF BIVALVED MOLLUSCS or CHEAP UNDER THE TABLE VIAGRA!
Anyway, on to the review. It could be argued, convincingly, that I am not qualified to be writing this, since I've never seen Volume 1. However, the beauty of the internet is that it liberalizes the means of communication, and allows any random jackass with a computer and an ego to post his thoughts on whatever he wants. I, of course, am not just some random jackass - I am a highly specific jackass, with some highly specific opinions on Kill Bill Volume 2, which may yet be found somewhere in this entry.
Right, review. Kill Bill Volume 2 is a movie which can only be appreciated on its own terms. The problem is that it's more reluctant than a sweaty-palmed used car salesman to reveal its terms. One might assume (in the grand tradition of the pretentious, I'm using "One might assume" to mean "I assumed), from seeing the commercials, that it's a typical vengeance-action movie, and the movie's first chapters (as with the first edition, Volume 2 is divided into five cinematic chapters) seem to make a point of indulging in the genre's worst stereotypes - we get a smooth-talking villain, an unprovoked massacre, and a wildly improbably escape from a deadly situation. The last one, provided by Uma Thurman's unassisted exit from a nailed shut coffin buried six feet underground, is what led me to start mentally composing this review. Well, not *this* review - a review that declared my utter disgust for the movie, using such words as "insipid" and "hackneyed." Indeed, when Darryl Hannah decided to eliminate an adversary by hiding a Black Mamba in a suitcase full of cash, I was almost ready to walk out, offended by what I saw as the movie's lack of respect for its viewers - Hannah, remember, was playing a highly-trained assassin, yet she for some reason found it appropriate to, in assassinating another highly-trained assassin, employ one of the most needlessly risky methods available.
But then my perspective changed. As Hannah and Thurman faced off in the trailer of Bill's poisoned brother, each with one of the world's finest Katana's in her hands, and as the scene ended without a sword fight in one of the most beautifully anti-climactic moments available, with Thurman plucking out Hannah's remaining eyeball, I finally realized what I'd been missing the whole movie: Kill Bill is a comedy! And not an action-comedy in a True Lies sense, either, in which testosterone-infused bloodshed is interrupted for the occasional penis joke, or in which the muscle-bound star makes a few darkly humourous remarks before engaging in more bloodshed. No, Kill Bill is a comedy of the sort in which the "plot" is only an excuse to put the characters in new and more ludicrous situations, and in which the "characters" are only action figures to fill the ludicrous situations. As this type of movie, Kill Bill succeeds magnificently.
For starters, all the actors manage a deadpan that would do Leslie Neilsen (somebody give that man a decent script, for the love of god) proud. Chief among these performances is David Carradine's disarmingly likeable Bill - in fact, I would argue that the highlight of the entire film is the climactic (the term is used loosely, as the movie climaxes less than an eighty year old nun) scene in which Thurman's The Bride meets the daughter that she and Bill conceived before she ran off without him. Granted, it seemed that my friends (including Nathan, who this space's more devoted readers will recall for his inappropriate laughter during The Passion of the Christ) and I were the only ones in the theatre laughing as Bill explained to his child how he "shot Mommy for real," but I maintain that this is one of the funniest moments in cinema this millenium.
I said that Bill was disarmingly likeable - in fact, all of the villains are, and the audience is almost invited to develop a closer connection with them than with The Bride (connections between audience and characters are irrelevant, mind you, as they are in any good farce). This is partly due to their detachment; rather than active participants in the story, the villains seem like they're there only to play a specific role. It's not that the movie elects not to show what role they play in life besides that of antagonist, it's that the movie decides to show, quite clearly, that they play no other role. As a result, these deliberately one-dimensional characters never get in the way of the comedy. This is best illustrated early in the film when Michael Madsen, as Bill's brother Budd, remarks to the title character that The Bride "deserves her revenge, and we deserve to die." Then again, he notes, "so does she." Nothing personal about these characters' one-track efforts to kill Uma, you see, it's just how things are supposed to work - you know, for the comedy.
Another highlight, which I haven't yet managed to work into this review's flow but which bears mentioning (my decision to just stick it in is actually reflective of the movie's own style, rather than of negligence, laziness, or incompetence on my part): as The Bride attempts to carry out her final assassination for Bill, she is harassed a (female) counter-assassin, who she eventually dissuades by showing her the positive results of her pregnancy test. "Congratulations," says the counter-assassin as she edges away, gun trained on Thurman all the while. At this point, not even that liberated male that I am could resist the thought that maybe if Bill's target had employed a male, the movie would have been a whole lot shorter.
If Kill Bill Volume 2 has a weakness, it would be the denouemont - after all, as every junior high school English student knows, the denouemont follows the climax, and Kill Bill doesn't bother with one of those. It ends off sort of abruptly, knowing that after delivering two solid hours of gut-busting laughs, the audience isn't going to complain (still more evidence that the movie is a screwball comedy rather than an action movie - after all, she killed bill - what the hell else do the viewers want?). And if Tarantino doesn't have to come up with a real ending to his movie, I don't see why I should have to do so for my review.
Finally, it's been said that no review of Kill Bill would be complete without noting Gordon Liu's brilliant work as Pai Mei. Consider it noted.
