Ridiculous. It's the first word that comes to mind as I leave the theater with a goofy grin and my chest hurting from laughing for more than three hours straight. The airwaves are clogged with celebrities gushing about how much fun they had making their new movie, but in the case of "Grindhouse" I'm inclined to believe them. How could you not have a good time running around as archetypes of horror with your tongues so in cheek a hot go-go dancer winds up with a missile-launching machine gun for a leg? Zombies, car crashes, scantily clad girls with guns, and a level of amazing fan service you wouldn't think possible makes "Grindhouse" the most fun you'll have in theaters for months and months to come.
Watching the comically absurd movie trailers interspersed between the two films, Rodriguez's "Planet Terror" and Tarantino's "Death Proof," you can't help but imagine the night the two directors came up with the idea for the movie: too much tequila on Halloween night and a movie marathon of slasher and sci-fi flicks from decades ago leads into the all-too-familiar Tarantino style discussion on the nature of horror and what makes people enjoy the films so much. But unlike Tarantino's other films, the long-winded speech about why the girls can't kill the masked psychopath doesn't occur. Instead, the two movies overplay the major themes and subplots of all basic horror films to the point that the audience can't help but recognize them and come out of the theater like a mob of Mr. Pinks.
The films themselves do all they can to draw attention to the genre and the old feel of the Grindhouse itself, a dilapidated theater that would run double bills of B-movies. Whether it's through missing reels, film discoloration, or fluctuating sound quality, the two movies have been stylized to hearken back to the old days. The techniques are not, however, merely an homage to the basis for the films, but enhance certain scenes with intensity or draw a sharp commentary on how plots are constructed.
Watching the comically absurd movie trailers interspersed between the two films, Rodriguez's "Planet Terror" and Tarantino's "Death Proof," you can't help but imagine the night the two directors came up with the idea for the movie: too much tequila on Halloween night and a movie marathon of slasher and sci-fi flicks from decades ago leads into the all-too-familiar Tarantino style discussion on the nature of horror and what makes people enjoy the films so much. But unlike Tarantino's other films, the long-winded speech about why the girls can't kill the masked psychopath doesn't occur. Instead, the two movies overplay the major themes and subplots of all basic horror films to the point that the audience can't help but recognize them and come out of the theater like a mob of Mr. Pinks.
The films themselves do all they can to draw attention to the genre and the old feel of the Grindhouse itself, a dilapidated theater that would run double bills of B-movies. Whether it's through missing reels, film discoloration, or fluctuating sound quality, the two movies have been stylized to hearken back to the old days. The techniques are not, however, merely an homage to the basis for the films, but enhance certain scenes with intensity or draw a sharp commentary on how plots are constructed.
