CHRIS WALKER VS. HOW MUCH BULLSHIT ARE YOU WILLING TO WATCH AT ONCE?
I figured out why Grindhouse made a disappointing $11.5 million last weekend – it fucking sucks.
Before I bash Grindhouse any further I’d like to clarify a few things: I’m aware Planet Terror and Death Proof, the two movies that make up Grindhouse, are meant to be B-rated, exploitation films. The characters are supposed to be campy; the plots are intentionally ridiculous; the action is deliberately unrealistic, and the violence and gore are over-the-top. I accept that and appreciate everything Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino tried to achieve with Grindhouse. In fact, I applaud the two directors for being such innovators. With the double feature, fake trailers, and prevue and restriction reels they made going to the movies an actual experience. Despite the fact Fanlo and I walked out twenty minutes into Tarantino’s Death Proof (the second of the two films) if Tarantino and Rodriguez attempt this kind of cinema again I’ll go see it again.
(The following contains spoilers) The sad part is Grindhouse starts so awesome with a fake trailer for Machete, starring Danny Trejo as “Machete”. The premise is Machete is an ordinary man hired by some shady guys in suits to assassinate a senator, or a governor, or some shit. Just as Machete is about to get the job done the shady guys in suits double-cross him. Machete wants revenge. Revenge includes (but is not limited to) mounting a Gatling gun to a motorcycle and riding off an exploding ramp; making out with two topless women at once; starting a knife army; cutting people’s heads in half, and bringing Cheech Marin out of priesthood to shoot people in the face with shotguns. After the Machete trailer I was like, “Yes, this is insane – I’m fucking excited!”
Unfortunately, that excitement was short lived. Enter Planet Terror. In Planet Terror I found myself suffering through Naveen Andrews (Sayid from Lost) – whose character, Abby, has a fetish for cutting off people’s balls – with his mouth on said castrated balls; mustard gassed penises; a young boy shooting himself in the head; Quentin Tarantino acting (no one should have to watch that); more castrated testicles; Quentin Tarantino trying to rape Rose McGowan while his balls melt off, and I repeat: QUENTIN TARANTINO ACTING. There’s a difference between intentionally bad and downright intolerable, Tarantino’s acting falls into the latter category.
I loved the insane amount of violence in Planet Terror: zombies getting decimated by a speeding truck; “Sex Machine” from From Dusk Till Dawn getting torn into pieces; pointless explosions and guns with infinite ammo; Freddy Rodriguez nailing zombies with a magnum while riding a mini-bike; Rose McGowan with a rocket-launcher for a leg, and most of all: Fergie (of Black Eyed Peas) getting her brains eaten out of her skull – I enjoyed every retarded minute of it. But melting balls, castrated balls, and other disgusting variations on balls? Not so much. It wasn’t entertaining or gory in a cool way, it was just disgusting. I feel sick recalling it – it ruined the whole movie for me. Maybe the more-repulsive-than-necessary nature of it is the point and maybe I just don’t get it but if that’s the case: I don’t want to get it. Those parts of the movie are pointless, way too much – especially the Tarantino part. Rodriguez should’ve left that shit on the cutting room floor.
By the end of Planet Terror my ability to appreciate subtle, sick humor and things that were shitty-on-purpose had reached its limit. Under normal circumstances, I might’ve laughed at Eli Roth’s fake trailer for Thanksgiving (a spoof on the Halloween horror franchise) – where every guy a girl makes out with (or goes down on) ends up decapitated and actor Michael Biehn kneels over a headless pilgrim, tastes the headless pilgrim’s blood and goes, “Yep, it’s blood,” – but I was so irritated and numb at that point I couldn’t even muster the strength to chuckle. I was done.
The only reason I didn’t walk out of the theater (which I thought about doing several times) was because I thought Tarantino’s movie, Death Proof, would be better. Sure, Tarantino is crap in front of the camera but he’s good behind it (or, he’s good when his ego doesn’t get in the way). Sometimes it’s important to edit yourself, Tarantino forgot this in Death Proof.
Death Proof starts with a girl with a not-so-flattering ass (and a close-up of her not-so-flattering ass) walking over to her couch and lying on it. Then her girlfriends come to pick her up but instead of just picking her up one girlfriend has to run up to her place so she can take a self-proclaimed “massive shit (or was it massive dump?)” and we’re treated to a close-up of a girl running up apartment stairs with her hand firmly planted on her crotch. Already, I’m irritated.
After that, the audience is treated to three barely attractive women engaged in Tarantino’s self-indulgent dialogue about scoring weed and the intricacies of making out for TEN FUCKING MINUTES. I couldn’t take it; I wanted to bang my head into a wall. By the time I found out shit-bag director Eli Roth had a cameo and he spoke during his cameo I’d had enough. I turned to Fanlo and made the “let’s go” sign. He was just as ready to leave as I was. We walked out of the film.
Dong Wang, who was also with Fanlo and me at Grindhouse, chose to stay for the remainder of Death Proof. He called me once it was over and said that he enjoyed the entire film, particularly Death Proof and called us pussies for leaving – and I’m sure Death Proof wasn’t as miserable as I thought it was – but by that point I just couldn’t endure anymore crap. Grindhouse should have its name changed to How Much Bullshit Are You Willing To Watch At Once? That’s really what it is. I’ll give Death Proof a shot, on its own when it comes out on video, but I can’t really see myself watching Planet Terror again – unless I fast forward through the balls parts.
The best part about Grindhouse is that Robert Rodriguez is actually making the Mexploitation fake film Machete into a real full-length film. That’ll be fucking awesome.
Posted: April 13th, 2007 | Author: Chris Walker | Filed under: Grindhouse, Quentin Tarantino, Robert Rodriguez | No Comments »