Reel Deal

In “What About Bob?” Bill Murray spoke a simple truth. “There are two types of people in this world. Those who like Neil Diamond and those who don’t.” The year was 1991. One year later, with the release of “Reservoir Dogs,” the world changed; a new truth was born. There are two types of people in this world. Those who love Quentin Tarantino and those who don’t.

Granted, such a Manichean perspective of humanity has become somewhat of a cliché. But, Quentin Tarantino is a man who trades in clichés, at least those of the cinematic variety. Undoubtedly one of the greatest movie fans of all time, the man is a hyperactive walking, talking, version of www.imdb.com. Every line, every image, every shot from every film he has ever seen seems to be stored up in that oddly shaped head, just waiting for its chance to be spit back out in one of Tarantino’s pre-ordained masterpieces.

However, what distinguishes Tarantino from, say, “Beat the Geek’s” Movie Geek, is that Tarantino doesn’t just know a lot about movies but he also knows a lot about how to make them. Like him or hate him, one would have a difficult time trying to deny the fact that the man’s got talent; Tarantino’s latest film, “Kill Bill: Vol.2” should only make that task even more difficult, if not downright impossible.

Intended as the second half of one film (Miramax released the first half as “Kill Bill: Vol.1” in October), Vol.2 picks up where Vol.1 left off. The Bride (Uma Thurman) is still searching for her former employer, Bill (David Carradine), to exact vengeance for the brutal Massacre at Two Pines, which took the life of her fiancé and left her in a coma.

However, whereas Vol. 1 often seemed like little more than an admittedly virtuoso demonstration of Tarantino’s mastery of film style, Vol. 2 combines this rather self-indulgent celebration of one filmmaker’s passion for cinematic form with a compelling story. The presence of conflict and tension, two elements lacking in the first film, provides Vol. 2 with the narrative momentum to propel Tarantino’s innovative rearticulation of cinematic devices towards its inevitable conclusion. Thus, while narrative still takes a back seat to narration, Vol. 2 is far more engrossing than its predecessor.

That having been said, “Kill Bill: Vol. 2” will undoubtedly provoke a divided response from audience members. Those whose devotion to Tarantino rivals that of Mel Gibson’s to Christ will be pleased to discover that the icon of independent cinema’s presence looms large above each and every frame, demanding recognition in practically every way conceivable.

Characters combine pop- culture references with philosophical and moral quandaries, images shift from color to black and white, the camera abruptly zooms, the screen splits, sound is superimposed over names. Although the impending confrontation between The Bride and Bill draws the audience into Tarantino’s world, it remains, after all, Tarantino’s world.

Some might find Tarantino’s refusal to remove himself from the narrative distracting, if not completely offensive. After all, audiences pay ten dollars to see a story, not a filmmaker’s narcissistic temper tantrum. However, the film Tarantino has made is far too entertaining, cohesive and ultimately effective to be simply dismissed as artistic masturbation.

The Massacre at Two Pines sequence is just one of many in which Tarantino’s command of narrative, visual and audio elements is both immensely admirable and utterly satisfying. It reminds the audience of the grave injustice, which The Bride has suffered at the hands of Bill, thus rationalizing her ruthless quest for revenge. In addition, it introduces the curious and dangerous relationship these two characters share.

Presented in a luscious black and white, which stands in stark contrast to the vivid colors in the rest of the film, the sequence brews with anxiety, the pressure mounting with each passing frame, until ultimately the inevitable explosion of violence erupts. Editor Sally Menke’s deliberate cutting emphasizes the sequence’s Western allusions, as hero and villain step face to face, each knowing the unspoken conflict, which brings them together and must tear them apart.

Before firing a bullet into the head of the soon to be mother of his child, Bill says : “I’d like to believe that you’re aware enough even now to know there’s nothing sadistic in my actions… this is me at my most masochistic.”

The line encapsulates the film’s preoccupation with contradictions. Tarantino’s style is at once derivative and original in its self-glorified regurgitation of concepts, images and techniques, rendered with genuine creativity from an utterly unique perspective. Thematically, the film concerns a similar duality, that between the popular social conception of the nurturing mother and the more primitive, animalistic role of the mother as viscous guardian of her offspring.

For her part, Thurman excels at embodying the contradictions of her character, alternating between states of control and vulnerability. Despite the film’s obvious distance from reality, The Bride registers as more than a mere cartoon vigilante. The emotional undercurrent, which Thurman brings to the character is vital, considering The Bride’s motivation and ultimate reward. Of course, any hero is only as good the opposing villain. Fortunately, Carradine is phenomenal, displaying the charming bravado common to all great movie bad asses.

When most directors have enough trouble transforming a story into a single movie, Tarantino has made two. So who cares if he’s got twice the attitude as long as he’s got twice the talent?