Love it or hate it and both camps have plenty of inhabitants Pulp Fiction is the kind of movie its virtually impossible to take your eyes off. Theres so much happening, yet at the end youll wonder if anything happened at all. Its gratuitously violent, yet most of the violence occurs off-screen. Its funny, but it shouldnt be. And, most confusingly of all back in 1994, its John Travolta, yet its not ANOTHER Look Whos Talking sequel. Whats going on here?
The tale deals, in no predictable order, with a pair of hit-men (Travolta and Samuel L. Jackson) retrieving a briefcase from a gang of yuppies, an ageing boxer (Bruce Willis) taking a bung and going on the run, and a couple of small-time crooks (Tim Roth and Amanda Plummer) biting off more than they can chew. The chubby, lank-haired Travolta also gets, albeit briefly, to woo Uma Thurman as the feisty moll of boss Ving Rhames. And all of those guys know how to use a sweary.
Though not the best film ever made, its surely one of the most original in its construction it doesnt just go against formula, it picks the test tubes up and chucks them against the lab wall. Even good ol chronological order has taken a bit of a battering by the time the 154 minutes are up, with the story double-backing on itself more times than I care to remember.
In hindsight, the cast looks incredible but more than a few of the players involved were going nowhere until this movie intervened (see previous Travolta baby movie reference). It made cult figures out of journeyman actors and beefed up a couple of CVs in the process.
Tarantinos never been one of my favourite directors. His painstaking approach to every single scene generates the kind of analysis among his die-hard supporters which just isnt necessary. Enjoy a movie by all means, but do we really need essay upon essay about just what the gold, glowing substance is inside THAT brief case? Besides, its obviously Ready Brek.