Kill Bill, volumes 1 and 2. Don't try to convince me that these are supposed to be one film, because they're so fucking clearly not. I've never been big on Tarantino. My problem isn't as much with his movies that I've seen (except Death Proof which can go die in a ditch) than it is with the reception they get vs. what I actually see on screen. I see critics and movie buff audiences just cream themselves over his movies, but except for Django and maybe Reservoir Dogs I've never considered any of his films above a 7/10.
Kill Bill vol 1 is one of the most aggressive examples of this I can think of. It's an overlong, pretentious, tonally and stylistically inconsistent, self-indulgent and self-satisfied mess. I have no idea what film nerds see in this movie. As an experience it's like being locked in a room with a hardcore movie nerd on cocaine who just wants to show you clips of his favorite movies and play his favorite records at you. The movie jumps between styles, genres and tones like it's got severe ADD and ends up feeling more like a collage of scenes Tarantino wanted to do instead of any kind of coherent whole. There are scenes and characters that are played up hugely with long lingering shots and super dramatic music blaring in the background, but almost none of it feels earned. There is so little characterization, so little context, so little sense of stakes or personal investment that I just kept wondering "I guess the film is telling me to care, but why should I?" I also have no idea how seriously I'm supposed to be taking the story, or how stylized the world is supposed to be. Beatrix's reaction to waking from her coma could be right out of a horror movie and is played completely straight, but then there are also the deliberately fake looking special and gore effects looking goofy as all hell. O-Ren Ishii apparently dresses in bright red leather during her assassin career and Beatrix rides an equally conspicuous yellow motorcycle. Are these things people just do in this universe? The end result of throwing all this nerd shit on the screen is a boring, annoying indulgence. And don't try to feed me that "imitating movies of yesteryear" excuse. Shitty storytelling is shitty storytelling whether it happens in 1973 or 2003.
Vol 2 on the other hand is leaps and bounds above its predecessor. To the point where I'm wondering if it's actually as good as I think, or merely seeming good by comparison due to watching both in one night. The tone and style are consistent, I actually want to listen to the dialogue, there's characterization and backstory and motivation and all those other things Tarantino forgot are supposed to be at the start of a movie, not after the halfway point. There's no licensed music constantly blaring in your ears, no 30-second backstories trying to get you to care about completely ancilliary characters and so on. Occasionally it dips into the same nerd wankery and pointless dialogue the first one does, but not nearly to the same degree. Towards the end though it almost completely loses my sympathy, and I'm not sure how intentional it was. It's long to explain, but certain things come to light that show that we've been watching people that don't deserve any sympathy, and without whom the world would likely be a better place. It's a weird place to end over 4 hours of film on.
One aspect in both films that raised my eyebrow a bit is how Beatrix as a character doesn't seem to be defined by how she is as a person, but how much abuse, pain and suffering she can push herself through. Since this is from a time where female action heroes were still quite an exception, it feels kind of quaint in how it builds her up to be a strong character, despite the entire narrative revolving entirely around what a man has done to her, and we know literally nothing about her ouside of how she's defined herself in service to Bill. If this were released today I imagine it'd spark quite a conversation about pop feminism, female empowerment and all that jazz.
Well, I'm at least glad I revisited them.