Initial Review by Phil

A while back, “Pulp Fiction” came up in a Side Piece I wrote where I ID’ed our most DIVISIVE movies.  The MMC gives it 4 A+’s, yet it can’t even crack our Top 50.  I was one of those dissenters, putting the movie at a C+ based off one viewing my sophomore year of college.  After a second viewing through older and theoretically wiser eyes, did Pulp Fiction reach another level for me?  Why yes, yes it did.

I can understand why I didn’t appreciate this movie in my youth.  It does meander, but it meanders with a purpose.  Mia Wallace herself puts it best when she says “Why do we feel it’s necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable?”  We see this happen time and time again – fairly meaningless conversations intended to build tension or make us forget about whatever unsavory business is at hand.  Vincent and Jules spend quite a bit of the movie talking about nothing, all in the name of building tension.  The Vincent and Jules portions are easily my favorite parts of the movie – Samuel L. Jackson as Jules has already written his MMC acceptance speech for Best Supporting Actor.  Quentin Tarantino is a master at building a scene where every character knows how it ends, but rather than getting to it, he fills the time with a meandering tension that captivates the audience and holds their attention.  The scene where Jules and Vincent are retrieving the briefcase is a damn-near perfect scene.  We have the predators calmly enter, essentially toy with their prey, and then, only when they are ready, unleash hell on the poor fools who betrayed them.

Every conversation in Pulp Fiction is like this.  The scene is about everything except what is actually being said.  Vincent and Mia at Jack Rabbit’s captures this very well, as both characters are consistently caught in awkward moments of silence.  Vincent has to spend the entire time attempting to read Mia while remaining on his toes thanks to the specter of Marcellus Wallace hovering over the night.  Mia is a very difficult character to draw any conclusion about.  Is she happy with Marcellus?  Is she happy in general?  We don’t get much interaction with her outside of that evening, making it difficult to tell.

It’s mystery like this that Pulp Fiction delights in, almost to a fault.  Yes, we all know the briefcase theories and whatnot, but it’s the mystery of individuals and relationships that I was drawn to.  Vincent and Butch in particular intrigued me.  We only see them interact twice.  The first time is Vincent brow-beating Butch, and the second time is Butch wasting Vincent.  Whatever bad blood already existed, there was enough for Butch to blast him to shit without a second thought.  (Poor Vincent, nothing good happened whenever he was in the shitter.  Put that book down sir!)  Many of these mysteries were harmless, such as the briefcase, and seemed to be there just to annoy the audience and eventually provide endless fodder to theorizing.  It’s a situation where it feels like the movie is a little to in love with itself.  This sort of stuff irks me.

One other thing that irked me in my younger days was the movie timeline.  The third story (The Bonnie Situation) occurs before the first two in the timeline, yet is held to the end.  Why is that?  Truth be told, I still cannot come up with a good reason for it.  The best reason I can think of is that it allows Tarantino to flip from using foreshadowing to references we are already aware of or using a sort of reverse foreshadowing.  For instance, Vinny in the bathroom is a clear callback to Butch killing him, but in the proper order, it would have been sloppy foreshadowing.  So in a way, we wind up with a future event foreshadowing a past event.  Maybe I just explained the reasoning to myself.  I did really like starting with Pumpkin and Honeybunny and then hearing the conversation we had heard already in the background of Jules & Vincent’s conversation.  Little touches like this can always be appreciated.

And the little touches are what Tarantino does best.  I’ve never considered myself a huge Tarantino fan, but there are so many little things he does so well.  The building of tension through conversation was already touched on.  He always uses some interesting camera angles (I’m sure there’s a reason so many shots of Vincent in the Mia story were diagonal from the floor).  He also uses quite a few really good long takes here.  My personal favorite was walking with Vincent and Mia around the Jack Rabbit.  I’m always impressed with the amount of coordination it takes to pull off a scene like that with so many people.  It doesn’t exactly crack my top 3 long takes (Atonement, True Detective, Y Tu Mama Tambien are probably my current top 3), but it’s very impressive nonetheless.

Also impressive was damn near every performance.  I’ve already talked about Samuel L. Jackson as the highlight for me.  Everyone delivers though.  The others that stood out in particular are Uma Thurman and, of all people, Eric Stolz, both of which were fantastic.  Even Christopher Walken and Harvey Keitel, who were basically only in one scene each, were memorable and made the movie better.

Consider me a convert to the cult of Pulp Fiction.  There’s so much going on here that 2.5 hours might not be enough.  I wouldn’t mind seeing this get the mini-series treatment someday, but that seems unlikely at this point.  I’m very happy I picked this movie now, because it was one I needed to see with a new perspective.

+ Masterful building of tension through distraction

+ Really not a bad scene in the movie

+ Tarantino at the top of his game

+ Every performance is great

- Maybe a little too in love with itself

Grade: A

When I narrowed down my pick to The  One I Love or The Double, I did not know both were going to be about doppelgangers.  Between these two and Enemy, three examples is enough to declare 2014 the year of doppelgangers.  I can't speak to what the other two movies have on their minds thematically, but if they're anything like The One I Love, or every other doppelganger movie, they'll have something to do with best selves and insecurity.

I knew basically nothing about this film going in.  Something about a troubled marriage.  That's always a great way to watch a movie, and that was the case here.  The twist of doppelgangers as a way into exploring a failing relationship is solid.  I like how it explores different masks and personas partners try on.  The fake-Ethan and fake-Sophie are portrayed as real-Sophie's and real-Ethan's ideal version of their spouses.  She cooks him his favorite foods and has basically no needs of her own, and he knows what she wants before she has to say anything.  What that has to say about real-Sophie and real-Ethan isn't flattering, but it feels real.  They were probably both  very much like their fake versions at one point, but drifted away from it as their relationship progressed.  I'm interested in what our married members have to say about this movie.

I was reminded a lot of Gone Girl with The One I Love.  Gone Girl's about a lot, but if you drill all the way down to its dark center, I'd say it's about the many different versions of one person.  In the central relationship, the best version is the one you use to find a mate, but after finding that mate, the best version slowly changes into something that requires less effort.  That film's version of marriage assumes that partners fall in love with the best version of a person, and are lukewarm, if not disgusted, with the low-effort one.  The One I Love isn't as cynical, but it's playing in the same ballpark.  There's the partner in your head, and there's the partner in front of you.  If those two images can't be reconciled, the relationship is headed for trouble and/or murderous rage.

This is the first film credit for the writer and the director.  Both are mostly strong in their debuts.  This is a good basic idea, and I like how what's happening isn't overly explained.  I love how every conversation has so much subtext.  The Sopranos and Deadwood were always great at this, such that so many lines are about the opposite of what the character is saying.  However, the script could have dug a little deeper into the fake-versions, as their traits brush up against stereotypes.  The fake-Ethan is all about charm and self-improvement, while fake-Sophie devotes her life to her husband.  With weaker actors, this could've felt hackneyed and boring, but with director Charlie McDowell guiding his cast, I think it works.  I don't think the camerawork is that impressive, but as an actor's director, McDowell's off to a good start. 

Mark Duplass and Elisabeth Olsen are each asked to play two different characters apiece, and their performances make the movie.  The two Ethan's pathetic poker battle may as well have been two different actors, as there's such a gap in the way they carry themselves.  Differences between the two Sophie's are more subtle, but still clear.  Fake-Sophie tries to put out an accommodating front, but because she's Elisabeth Moss, there's always so much going on behind her eyes.  When she gets called out by real-Ethan, I love the gradual melting of her smile into something much more serious.

In the hail of bullets, I want to call out the score as being bad for anything else, but perfect for the movie.  It's unnerving and unpredictable with all its random noises, ideally sculpted to a movie where what's happening next is unclear.  The ending is predictable, as every doppelganger movie or scene in general has to have one where a character can't tell the difference, picks one, and then regrets that pick later.  The fake versions' unwillingness to engage with questions about what's going on is enraging, such that I began to doubt the humanity of the real versions.  Real people would want to know what the fuck is happening before doing anything else.  I'm overall positive, but this review didn't come naturally and was difficult to write.  I liked The One I Love, but I'm not overly excited about it, and it's themes have been done better, in every way, by other movies.  The definition of a C+.

Scott Tenormon must die. It’s my favorite South Park Episode ever. It’s not just the audacity or the offensiveness, rather, it’s the reveal at the end. I thought I was watching an entire episode of Cartman getting screwed over. Instead, it’s revealed that Cartman is pulling every string all along and it’s nothing like I thought. A Hijacking makes me think of that episode. 

When I first started watching it, I though immediately of Captain Phillips, which is by all means a fantastic movie. But they movie couldn't be any different in its approach to the same subject matter. Unlike Captain Phillips, we don’t see the actual hijacking. We don’t see the rescue. The tension isn't created by what’s on screen, but rather what not on screen. (And director Tobias Lindbolm continued to masterfully create tension in the viewer based off of on-screen actions.) 

We also have no sympathy for the pirates, which I think was an intentional choice. This movie was already nearly 2 hours, to humanize the pirates would have taken much longer. I loved the decision to not give them subtitles. We don’t need to know their motivations. We don't ned to feel sympathy for them in order to get this movie. 

So really, I think, any comparison to Captain Phillips would be shallow. These are totally different movies about different things in different genres. 

Anyway, back to this film. We have 2 main characters. talking with Blair, her thought is we’re seeing Omar and Peter play off of each other. I respectfully disagree. I see this as a Peter and Mikkel story. At first, I assumed it would be a statement on class. The rich CEO is a crack negotiator who respects only the bottom line. Mikkel is the sensitive worker who shows us success isn’t always dictated by power and money. I was pleasantly surprised to see that the movie doesn’t go this route. 

Peter is the CEO. He’s good at what he does. He keeps control. The British consultant comes in and Peter wants to be the mouthpiece follows the Brit’s lead. He talks with Omar as coolly as he did the Japanese business men. But away from Omar, he talks about the men on the ship. One of my favorite scenes in the movie is after he thinks Mikkel might have been shot. He just gazes in the direction of Mikkel’s picture before walking away. I expected him to be distant and cold, but he’s warm and caring with the families. Sure, he has the right answers, but he’s sparing their feelings in the process. I was ready for a statement on class and I didn’t get it.

With Mikkel, I was expecting to see the sensitive, but resilient and warm survivor. Christ, when the fish scene happens, I feel happy for him. But that’s only a tiny peak. In reality, we have a man being completely emotionally beaten to death. Every happiness is taken away from him. His phone call with his wife. His cooking. His thinking the ordeal was over. Ever his warmth towards his daughter eventually. With Mikkel, I get something absolutely depressing and cold. 

I thought we’d see Mikkel overcome the working man odds. I thought we’d see Peter ego get the best of him. Instead we saw a more realistic intersection of those two things. Here is where Scott Tinnerman comes in. 

We see glimpses of the ending that are subtle as Lindbolm doesn’t want to hit you in the face with his message. Peter flies off the handle during a conversation with Omar and gets emotional. Looking at that scene alone, it seems like its concern for his men that is driving him. He won’t be threatened. 

We next see this from Peter during the final negation. Following a whim suggestion from poor Lars, he makes a proposal that seems desperate. He just wants his men back. He wants this over. They’ve all been suffering, right?

No. Here’s where Lindbolm really nails the plot. Peter is only frustrated because he is not winning the negotiations. In the first scene, he’s angry because he receives no counter-offer. In the second scene, he wants the negotiations done because he’s just been given a time-limit. Even if it started about the men, the end negotiation was about Peter. Peter gets to play the hero. And poor Mikkel has to watch his captain get murdered for sticking up for him. Lindbolm gives this information to us, but I think it’s easy to miss that this is the commentary on class that we were expecting. I didn’t even put it all together until we have our last scenes with our two main characters. Mikkel is just crushed. He’s so incredibly depressed that he can’t even interact with his wife or daughter. And then Peter, seemingly distraught, gets in his expensive automobile and leaves the garage, making a right turn into whatever he feels like. Peter had a rough few months, but Mikkel’s life is ruined. This is a subtle, but profound statement on class. If you’re the boss, shit gets tough, but you still get to live a comfortable life. If you’re the cook, when shit gets tough, your life is forever changed. 

I just didn’t expect all of that to come in the last ten minutes. All along Peter has viewed the crew as  commodity to be traded. An opportunity to win another negotiation. I didn’t want that to be the case, but it seems in line with modern day labor. The company is number one and the workers are white noise. They’re data. You want to be happy or satisfied, but that was ripped away from us. The movie spends the entire time successfully getting us to sympathize and pulls out the rug as we just silently watch him get into that nice car and drive away. This is our Scott Tenorman moment. This is when you realize what you just watched. 

Outside of our main character, there are some parallels. Omar and the Brit are equals. They both represent the bureaucracy of the event. They’re here to give us structure while letting Peter try to skimp his way through it while Mikkel actually suffered. Lars and Jan are both similar in that they provide support for Peter and Mikkel. They’re competent as numbers 2s, but they both really stepped up. Lars with the personal savings thing and Jan with that giant fish. 

To go with the subtlety in story-telling, I loved the minimalism of the movie. The shots were generally very clean and simple. They just gave a simple picture. The scenes on the boat ranged from beautiful and open to constricted and closed. But the shots were so telling that we didn’t need a verbal explanation of what was going on. We just knew that they were suffering below deck. We knew they were being paraded. With Peter, the sterile shots gave us a glimpse into his utilitarian mind. 

I also liked that Lindbolm kept us in close quarters. This entire movie felt cramped and claustrophobic. How much of a relief is whenever the sailors get to go outside. I felt cleaner just watching it. 

I’m trying to think of a negative, but I’m struggling at the moment. I could see how someone might find the pacing a bit boring (Hart Man, this might not be your type of movie I’m guessing), but I thought it built the tension effectively. So even there I can’t knock it. 

I originally gave this an A-, but I’m hovering over an A right now. Talk me up or down.