Lord John Goes to The GRINDHOUSE

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!!

As I write this review of the spectacular double-feature of postmodern shock-schlock that is GRINDHOUSE it has all but been pronounced DOA at the box-office - a bomb, a disaster, a grave miscalculation that may spell the end for the already struggling, former indie kings Harvey and Bob Weinstein. All of that is a bit disheartening, giving fans a bit of uncertainty as to where the talent may end up, and the subsequent limitations that their new home(s) could enforce upon them. As much shit as the brothers Weinstein have given other filmmakers through the years, the indie mavericks Quentin Tarantino, and Robert Rodriguez have had carte blanche to do whatever they want. Now, with GRINDHOUSE, they get to indulge their sickest whims, all the while paying homage to the kind of films they loved in their younger days.

But who gives a damn about the biz, let's get down to the films...

The three hours I spent this past Friday watching this expensive experiment were three of the greatest hours I have ever spent in a theater. The two films, the fake trailers, all of it was outstanding. Now, I didn't grow up in the era of the real grindhouses, but I was exposed to the types of films that played there through cable TV, home video, and the crap that got dumped at the UA South 8 in Duncanville (NIGHT OF THE COMET, the Lou Ferrigno HERCULES movies, anything produced by Golan-Globus). Hell, the video store I worked at through high school was as close as you got to a grindhouse due to the low-rent, off-the-wall selections we had. Kung-fu, horror, exploitation, Euro-sexploitation - we had it all, and the Doctor and myself went through quite a few of them (the Doctor went through considerably more than I did though).

I'm not going to spend time on the trailers, except to say that they are pretty damn good (with the exception of Eli Roth's THANKSGIVING - who is this guy and what's the big deal about him?).

Alright, let's cut to the chase. Er, wait, the chase happens in the second movie. In this case, let's cut to the exploding pus:

Robert Rodriguez's PLANET TERROR

This is the great, nasty, oozing, diseased-people run amok mini-epic the gore fans have been waiting for. If Umberto Lenzi (NIGHTMARE CITY), and John Carpenter (if you don't know who he is, stop reading now) blended their DNA with BAD TASTE/DEAD ALIVE-era Peter Jackson, and added a pinch of Stuart Gordon's genetic makeup (RE-ANIMATOR, FROM BEYOND) in order to come up with the perfect action-horror film, you'd have PLANET TERROR. It's unfortunate that people feel it necessary to split into camps over "which one is better", this or DEATH PROOF, dismissing one or the other and drawing a line in the sand in order to make hipper-than-thou pontification camps, but those people are stuck-up prigs who like to be seen at the scene and love to hear themselves talk. PLANET TERROR is disgusting, hilarious, and probably the best thing Rodriguez has done on his own. The script is near-flawless, and contains the punchier one-liners of the two movies. The cast is perfect, employing some of cultdom's best (Jeff Fahey and Michael Biehn! Tom Savini! Carlos Gallardo! Fuck yeah!), and it throws so many ridiculous plot twists and contrivances at the audience that it only helps the case for it being nothing more than a dark, nasty, shithouse-rat-crazy comedy. The intentional continuity gaps in this movie are hilarious - from the aftermath of the missing reel, to the amazing transforming facial hair of Bruce Willis...

Other kudos:

Rose McGowan and Marley Shelton are positively iconic sitting on that bike together. Loved both of them. They are hot, and pretty damn fine at physical comedy as well. Dig Rose hobbling around on her table-leg before she gets the machine gun. Dig Marley trying to operate the car with anesthetized hands. And when she gives her son that gun - priceless.

Freddy Rodriguez should have no problems finding work after "Six Feet Under". His El Wray character is classic. The butterfly-knife-fu in the hospital was greatness. RR should explore prequel ideas about his exploits in the military.

Michael Biehn and Jeff Fahey's final moments: Fahey giving him his barbeque recipe, their fates sealed like Vasquez and Gorman's in ALIENS - awesome.

The Crazy Babysitter Twins: My god it's true, I am a dirty old man now. Sweet lord. The two of them beating the Hell out of Marley's Cadillac - again - awesome.

Now for the chase:

Quentin Tarantino's DEATH PROOF

If PLANET TERROR is a fastball, then this is the change-up. DEATH PROOF, quite simply, is flawed, but brilliant. In fact, it could stand as the most original thing Tarantino has done since, well, maybe ever. The whole conceit of a homicidal former stuntman (Kurt Russell) marauding about in a fortified car that protects him while spelling doom for the poor girls unfortunate enough to hitch a ride, or to have a head-on collision with him is genius. The main complaints heard during the screening I went to Friday were directed towards the overlong exchanges of dialogue between the female characters. I agree, to a point. After nearly hyperventilating from the charge of the first film the pacing in this one lags, and people around me were audibly complaining. It's not that I think the dialogue was bad, it's just that the tone of this one should have warranted it opening the double feature, rather than closing. Like any good slasher movie, you need to know your victims, and these characters are fleshed out in accordance to the material. Banal? Yeah, a little. Boring? Compared to PT, a tad. Unnecessary? Given the context, no. It's kind of like having an all-acoustic set by Bruce Springsteen following a balls-out set by The Stooges - no matter the brilliance of the material, the overall presentation throws the audience off a bit because of the change in energy. The two acts of DEATH PROOF take their time, but the payoffs are well worth the wait. The end of the first half alone is without a doubt, one of the most gruesome, horrifying things ever committed to film. It's Tarantino's version of those VW crash-commercials. The second half climax is white-knuckle overload and not for the faint of heart...

Other kudos:

SIR Kurt Russell: What more can you say about the guy? He's a legend, and one of my all-time favorites. His Stuntman Mike is classic, and in the years to follow will go down as one of his best roles ever - right next to Snake Plissken, Jack Burton, and RP MacCready - whether you liked the movie or not. The scene in the car after he gets shot almost made me piss myself laughing..

The climactic car chase: While it's not as great as I've heard some people proclaim (and I'm a car chase junkie - I've seen them all), it's still very, very good. Zoe Bell is a madwoman for getting on that hood. Those retards on "Jackass" ain't shit compared to this badass. Give that woman a raise.

Sydney Portier's legs. Man that chick has some mega-gams. Damn shame one of them ends up in the road. That crash. Sweet Jesus, I can't get it out of my head. Thanks Quentin, you sick fuck.


Go see this! And see it soon, because rumor has it that the brothers Weinstein are considering splitting them in two for re-release in order to recoup. It's doubtful that anything like this will ever be attempted again.