Quentin Tarantino may be many things — perverted, profane, whipsmart, cocky, a little too enamored with his own cleverness — but subtle he is not. He’s not even in the ballpark. Matter of fact, if that ballpark blew up, he wouldn’t hear the sound for another three days. Nah, Tarantino’s a guts-glory-chicks-and-explosions kind of director, and that imagination of his? In the name of Le Royale with Cheese does it dream up some wild-n-twisted trips.

Mark ”Pulp Fiction” down as one of the wildest. Every nanosecond of this humdinger’s 154 minutes contains something warped/crazy/effortlessly cool to behold: philosophical discussions about foot massages, the nature of miracles and a gold watche that has been places no watch should go; murders both coolly calculated and comically accidental; a frightful drug overdose; kinky sex (think S&M with an Alabama drawl and a gimp); and, last but not least, a sinfully delicious $5 milkshake. Random as this catalogue seems, Tarantino’s film is far more scattershot. The action doesn’t adhere to a simple timeline; instead, there are three stories that run parallel, then smash together, then diverge only to reconnect in ways that boggle the mind upon repeat viewings. “Pulp Fiction” is a genius noir/gangster combo that keeps us guessing. Guess long enough, though, and patterns start to emerge from the madness.

Sort of. Since Tarantino makes it nearly impossible to understand how these stories pool into a cohesive ending, let’s tackle one beast at a time. First, there’s “Vincent Vega and Marcellus Wallace’s Wife,” the tale of L.A. hitmen Vince (John Travolta) and Jules (a perfeclty cast Samuel L. Jackson) heading to do a job ordered by their loose-cannon boss Marsellus (Ving Rhames). Since Marsellus recently threw a guy out a high-rise window for giving his wife Mia (Uma Thurman) a foot massage, Vince has the jitters about taking her out on the town. His plan is simple: “Chew my food with my mouth closed, laugh at her fucking jokes, and that’s it.” Of course, trouble has a tendency to follow Vince, so things don’t go that smoothly.

Smoothness doesn’t much like Butch (Bruce Willis) either, which we discover in ”The Gold Watch.” A talented boxer with a sweetly innocent girlfriend (Maria de Medeiros), Butch shovels some dirt on his own grave by winning the fight Marsellus paid him to throw. But his neat double-cross turns messy through a series of freak coincidences, the most interesting involving two pawn shop owners who plumb forgot to pack their manners (not to mention their morality) when they left the Deep South. ”The Gold Watch” leads into “The Bonnie Situation,” a conclusion of sorts where Tarantino himself shows up as Jimmie Dimmick, a pal of Jules who begrudgingly agrees to help him clean up an accidental hit (“my gun went off! I don’t know why!” insists the a brain matter-spattered Vance) with help from Winston Wolf (Harvey Keitel). What’s on Wolfe’s business card we can’t be sure, since the terse mystery man only offers “I solve problems” as his job description.

It’s offhand comments like these that demonstrate one of Tarantino’s greatest strengths: revealing character traits with one or two stray lines of dialogue. He’s a student of human nature, and he knows the ways people fill time by arguing over whether foot massages are sensual or wondering what cheeseburgers are called in France (see above). And yet everything these characters say tells us something about themselves or the story. Christopher Walken, in his lone scene, delivers a howling-good speech that seems like comic relief, but the subject — the gold watch — comes back into play. Jules spouts a nonsensical version of Ezekiel 25:17, but it reveals his own moral code. Thurman, who finds jumpy loneliness in Mia, parlays a terrible joke about tomatoes into a real connection with Vince. Haphazard though they seem, these lines are the threads that knit everything together.

What else dazzles about “Pulp Fiction”? There’s the abundance of lurid violence — much of it comical (including an uncomfortably funny rape scene), some of it truly shocking, none of it gratuitious. Jackson and Travolta are one hell of two-man team, while Willis registers a pulse and Eric Stoltz has wit to burn. Ultimately, though, it’s the manic, fearless force of Tarantino that makes “Pulp Fiction” a sweet, sweet joyride, indeed.

Grade: A

The Perfect Nerder (R)

Ed Butkins (Jon Heder) and Eric Van Euytven (Christopher Mintz-Plasse) are two certified geniuses and members of Mensa, with an obsession for television crime drama (CSI, Law & Order, etc).

Together, they comb through hours of their favourite shows, piecing together the ingredients for a perfect murder. Their target? Arch-nerd-rival and current president of the local Mensa group, Eugene Sawchuk, (Quentin Tarantino), known for having an IQ 2 points higher than their own.

Over time, Sawchuk catches wind of the scheme and decides to try to eliminate his two rivals by giving them a ‘dose of their own medicine’.

Final scene features an over-the-top Tarantino-esque massacre involving all three nerds, several bags of toenails, semen and random DNA samples, anthrax-laced soda pop and a booby-trapped elevator.

Possible Dialogue:

Crime scene investigator: What… in God’s name… happened here?

One thing that pervades all of Tarantino’s work is his obvious love for movies. It is usually most noticeable all of the homages to old movies he has in his films. But in this movie it is brought to the forefront, as he re-writes history and basically makes film the reason Hitler is brought down from power. The movie is noticeably Tarantino, with long scenes and slow conversations that lead up to brutal graphic action. He scenes are all very deliberate with the dialogue carefully planned out. His description of this movie as a spaghetti western set in WWII is spot on. After a somewhat underwhelming Death Proof, this movie once again leaves me looking forward to his next film.

Alternando su reciente faceta de documentalista con la de productor de cine y realizador de TV, el maestro del costumbrismo contémporaneo, el futuro ganador del Cecil B. DeMille en los próximos Golden Globes, el gran Martin Scorsese, se prepara para una grata sorpresa. Y la sorpresa es su regreso al género del terror y el suspenso.

Para los que no recuerden Cape Fear y su magnífico DeNiro, Martin Scorsese en 1991 adaptó la novela de John D. MacDonald y junto a él, Nick Nolte, Jessica Lange y la jovencita Juliette Lewis armaron lo que para mi es un claro ejemplo de suspenso donde el cruento enfrentamiento entre DeNiro y su abogado defensor, Nolte, nos dejó petrificados en nuestras sillas. Para ese entonces Juliette Lewis caracterizaba a una jovencita casi de la misma edad mía; en ese entonces no concebía muy bien la diferencia de edades y pues me parecía un acto de seducción medianamente normal. Vista uno o dos veces después, el acto pedófilo se hizo más evidente y alimentó mi morbo en esta peli en particular. No hay cabida para ser tan macabro como lo fue DeNiro y tan genialmente malvado como Scorsese para lograr esta factura. La maldición de Scorsese, y de paso la de DeNiro, era la de arrasar en nominaciones y no ganar absolutamente nada (una gran injusticia con este par de monstruos), esta no fue la excepción. Qué buen guión, qué buena factura, qué actuaciones, etc… Y nada. Al final la revelación de Lewis y su virginal papel, le conllevaron dos premios y una nominación a nivel independiente.

Scorsese se prepara para un nuevo atardecer, de la mano de un reparto sencillamente impresionante, de Robert Richardson veterano de mil batallas en cinematografía al lado de Oliver Stone, el mismo Scorsese y recientemente visto en los basterdos de Tarantino, y de Thelma Shoonmaker editora que no sólo es una ganadora impresionante de óscares sino casi la mano derecha de Scorsese en todo su portafolio de largometrajes.

Apunta a ser escalofriante, impresionante, tenebrosa, ojalá muy gore y de una factura impecable. Que se lleve sus buenos premios y que Scorsese como es caballero repita Oscar como es debido.

Leonardo DiCaprio (Teddy Daniels)
Mark Ruffalo (Chuck Aule)
Ben Kingsley (Dr. John Cawley)
Michelle Williams (Dolores Chanal)
Max von Sydow (Dr. Jeremiah Naehring)
Jackie Earle Haley (George Noyce)
Elias Koteas (Andrew Laeddis)
John Carroll Lynch (Deputado Warden McPherson)

*No encontré el papel de Patricia Clarkson en IMDb y no lo he podido encontrar en ningún otro lado :-S