Okay, here's the deal. A few years ago, a wild man wandered in from the wilderness. He preached a gospel like nothing we'd ever heard before. A precious few had heard his message before, but this time, the message echoed down from the mountaintops and reverberated in the valleys. The masses heard the message, and became believers. Accompanying him were a dusty band of followers, long presumed dead; he gave them new power, bringing forth praise for these forgotten souls. Hollywood rushed to worship at the feet of this movie messiah and a new era of filmdom reigned. Such was the genesis of the First Church of Tarantino.
Then, the wild man became just another man. He fell in with fame and got too busy to preach. He made the talk show circuit, won all the awards, served himself rather than continue good works. He chalked up a short film in an indie anthology and directed an episode of a high-profile TV show. He wrote a bit, acted some here and there, and even made headliner in an alright gangster-vamp flick. But it wasn't the same thing. His followers were starving for the word.
Finally, the word was given. Another movie was coming. It would have a cast of heralded performers, some top-liners, some forgotten. It would be based on a book from a maverick author known for rich characters and tight dialogue. But, now, the world was anxious. Has the wild man lost his touch? Can the outsider-turned-trendsetter still make a good movie? Can a new gospel be written?
The answer, dear disciples, is yes. Oh, yes. And, while Jackie Brown is not going to rival Pulp Fiction for novelty, creativity, and freshness, it's a nicely-structured, dialogue-driven piece that shows a new side to Tarantino, one that still can make good movies, but one who's matured a bit, not enough to alter the image, but enough to show everyone that he'll be around for a long, long time.
Jackie Brown (Pam Grier) is a flight attendant on a two-bit airline. She adds to her paycheck every now and then by doing a bit of smuggling for Ordell (Samuel L. Jackson), a gun dealer in L.A. She brings cash in from Mexico for him. When Beaumont (Chris Tucker) gets busted by an ATF agent (Michael Keaton) and a local cop (Michael Bowen), he gives up Jackie, trying to get out of a jam. Jackie gets popped carrying $500,000 of Ordell's money, and she knows she's in trouble.
She gets bailed out by Max Cherry (Robert Forster), who falls for Jackie the second he sees her. But a love story is not what occupies Jackie's mind. Ordell will kill her if she rats him out. He and his dull-witted henchman Louis (Robert De Niro) could care less about killing someone else. She could try to kill Ordell first, but has no inclination to kill. But she has a plan that could get the job done, if she can pull it off. Okay, enough plot. Here's the skinny.
You might be disappointed if you're looking for chopped ears, Batusi danceoffs, and jump-starting hypodermics, but, if you're looking for a kickin' movie, this is one of the better ones out there.
The performances are tight as bongos here. Jackson is even badder than he was in Pulp, with attitude for days. De Niro plays a part that is so against his usual type, it's alarming. He's actually loveable and charming, despite being a killer. Shades of Travolta in Pulp, but more development makes Louis a richer character. Keaton is brief but at top form, Tucker is briefer but better. A new addition to the world of Quentin is Bridget Fonda, and, oh my, what a Welcome Wagon. Fonda plays Ordell's drugged-out girlfriend Melanie, and she's a gift-wrapped box of quirks, a girl whose only ambition in life is to smoke dope and watch TV. She's especially funny in a scene where she teaches Louis how to use a bong.
And, yes, Q does his usual rejuvenation with Pam Grier and Robert Forster. Grier is still as smokin' as she was in the '70's, when she ruled the blaxploitation market. She's back in the money here, sassy and ready. Is she the new Travolta comeback? No, but she stands a shot at that sort of resurgence due to this movie. The miracle man here is Robert Forster. It's entirely possible that you've never heard of Forster, or, more believable, you've seen him but never knew his name. He's been a fringe guy -- a "B"-movie type -- owning credits in TV's "Banyon", Alligator, Avalanche, and Medium Cool. Here, he plays a deadpan slob that falls head over heels for his charge. It works so perfectly, and it contrasts so well with the other wilder performances, that he'll score plenty for this part. And the two of them work so well together, an unspoken attraction running like a hidden electric current, but neither advances the relationship. It makes the pairing even more watchable by having them not act on it.
While plotting is always a staple of Tarantino's work; so is depth. And it's just that deep dish that makes this movie. These characters are real as iron, full of life, ideas, intrigue. The intricacies of the plot are not so mind-boggling that they take away from the mix; rather, they add to it. There is a created world here, an underworld society that's complex and fascinating, and these characters all fit into the world. The world is not altered to fit the characters. It's this element that makes you look at Tarantino in a new light. Suddenly, the work is about more than splatter and smart-ass. This movie has all that, but more. Another Elmore Leonard book, Get Shorty, played into a world of glitz and glamour. Jackie Brown, based on Leonard's Rum Punch, plays its part in a darker place, one where backstabbing is literal and playing for keeps means playing for life.
Be warned, the movie gets a shade long at 150 minutes plus, but thankfully, the actors make the time pass quickly. You find yourself wanting to spend time with these folks, no matter how nasty they are.
Jackie Brown is not Pulp Fiction, nor is it Reservoir Dogs. But it was never supposed to be. It's supposed to stand on its own. Hey it ain't perfect, but few things are. I would say, though, that it ushers in a new director in Tarantino. He makes a movie that follows the path to a tee, and saves the surprises for the end, where they're supposed to be. It makes for a righteous time at the movies, and it's great to see the preacher back in the pulpit.
Copyrighted image courtesy of Miramax Films.
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