If more outstanding directors will start collaborating on two-for-one double features, cinema will be forever changed. Think of the possibilities. Steven Spielberg and Francis Ford Coppola. Oliver Stone and Milos Forman. Even Rob Zombie and Uwe Boll! The possibilities are endless, and if any of them combine to form a team like Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino, the world will be a better place.”Grindhouse” brings the two directors together in a completely different way than their previous outings “Four Rooms” and “Sin City.” This time they’ve each provided their own feature-length vision of bad cinema, taking horrible, disco-era concepts and turning them into masterpieces.
The cinematic style of “Grindhouse” matches up perfectly with its retro themes. Each installment begins with “prevues of coming attractions” of movies that, if they were ever made, would be just as awesomely bad as the films they precede, but will unfortunately never be made.
The film in the projector appears to have been treated like a scratch-off lottery ticket, harsh lines running across the screen as the film jumps around. This effect is not overused, though, and it maintains the feeling that these movies are very old, even though the characters are using cell phones while avoiding melting, brain-hungry zombies.
This is the basic premise of the first film on the grind, Robert Rodriguez’s “Planet Terror.” The plot is simple: Some military men released some gas in the air of a small town. That gas just happens to turn everybody except the stars of the movie into slow-moving, pack-hunting kill monsters.
“Planet Terror” captures the feeling of typical ’70s and ’80s zombie fare, but Robert Rodriguez keeps his tongue shoved so firmly into his cheek that it’s practically bursting through the other side. Hapless characters wander through the darkness without a zombie anywhere near them, then suddenly when they turn around, 8 million of the moaning meanderers will be right behind them, ready to eat.
People get ripped into small pieces by what appears to be little to no effort on the zombies’ part. Cars explode without even being touched, and characters that were supposed to be all the way across town suddenly show up unannounced without surprising anybody. The continuity couldn’t be any worse, and the outcome couldn’t be any better.
This masterful work of cheese proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that Rodriguez is a master of camp. With such outstanding casting decisions as an aged Michael Biehn (“The Terminator”) as the untrusting Sheriff Hague and Freddy Rodriguez (who knew?) as badass killing machine Wray, the film maintains a near-constant state of comedy complemented with more gore than George A. Romero ever thought about. Well, maybe not more than he ever thought about, but definitely more than he used in any one movie. Oh, yeah, and Rose McGowan gets a gun on her leg.
Taking an ounce of inspiration from Romero’s “[Blank] of the Dead” films, the synth score in “Planet Terror” is all but perfect. A corny synthesized bass hums through nearly every scene, and more synth hits accompany nearly every climactic moment. Suffice it to say that very few real instruments were used to score the movie.
Following Robert Rodriguez’s effort comes Tarantino’s car-chase thriller, “Deathproof,” but not before three more preposterous previews of coming attractions. Eli Roth’s “Thanksgiving” looks particularly incredible, and if any of the fake movie previews should actually be made, it’s that one.
“Deathproof” is the touching story of a lonely, aging stuntman named, crazily, Stuntman Mike (Kurt Russell). It’s touching because he touches women with his car. Hard. Tarantino takes the old “guy stalks and then kills you” genre and turns it on its side, wheels a-blazin’. The only problem is, it seems like he tried too hard to make a good movie.
The dialogue is very strong and reminiscent of past Tarantino offerings, focusing on the attitudes of even the most roadkill-ready characters. Tarantino also pulls off some very well set-up shots, including an incredible chase scene and a few one-take conversations that must’ve been painstaking for the actors involved. But in a movie that is supposed to hearken back to the ’70s, the production value seemed a little too high. Combine that with a huge lull in action after a pulse-pounder like “Planet Terror,” and somehow Tarantino managed to come up a little short compared to his counterpart.
This is not to say “Deathproof” is a poor film. Far from it. Russell’s performance is all but magical, incorporating more mood swings than the entire cast of “Steel Magnolias.” At one point he even smiles directly at the camera, eliciting laughter coupled with a sense of impending doom for his poor passenger.
The aforementioned chase scene is the stuff of legend and will likely go down as one of the best in recent history. There is a vast amount here to enjoy, but “Planet Terror” definitely takes the cake.
If you’re looking for action, blood, zombies, hot women, cars, hot women in cars, hot zombies in cars, girls with gun legs, insane stunts and Bruce Willis, “Grindhouse” will deliver all of these in bulk and throw some stuff your way you never expected. If these things aren’t your cup of tea, you should probably go see “Grindhouse” anyway. It’s that fun.