Pop Expressions

Quentin Tarantino is one of the most recognizable directors working today, both in name and style. His character driven films laced with coarse but realistic dialogue and his use of obscure pop culture references have redefined the concept of cool, but his success has not come without controversy. Tarantino frequently borrows shots, plot concepts, music, and pieces of dialogue from his favorite films and incorporates them into his own creations. Critics say that these actions come dangerously close to plagiarism and leave his work devoid of substance, while supporters argue that he is a post-modern artist who borrows old defunct forms and creates new and meaningful things from their parts. Tarantino is neither of those things. He expresses himself with what he’s learned from films because to him they are as or more important than reality; Tarantino can only speak the language of pop.

Years before his sudden rise as an iconic director, Tarantino struggled with his education. His dyslexia made him continuously frustrated with school and caused him to retreat further into his world of movies. Tarantino dropped out in the ninth grade to pursue an acting career. Bored with reality, his escape to Hollywood was his chance to merge real life with his obsession with films. Ultimately failing as an actor, Tarantino got a job at a video store in Manhattan Beach, California.

All day long in this bastion of cinema, Tarantino was free to watch and discuss his favorite movies with co-workers and get paid for it. In his book, “What Happens Next?” a history of American screenwriting, Marc Norman pictures Tarantino as a feral child let loose in the library of Alexandria. Tarantino didn’t go to film school like the generation of directors before him that includes Spielberg, Scorsese, and Coppola. His education was pieced together from films as varied as classic John Ford westerns to cheap, underground, Filipino horror flicks.

Using this encyclopedic knowledge of films, Tarantino first broke into movies with his underground hit “Reservoir Dogs.” He is credited with popularizing the Independent Film movement of the 90’s after the mega success of “Pulp Fiction,” his second feature, in 1994. It became the first Indie movie to gain over $100 million dollars domestically. Because of its success, big Hollywood studios began to buy out smaller Indie outfits and give them larger budgets, following the lead of Disney’s acquisition of Miramax. Harvey Weinstein, co-owner of Miramax, has referred to his company as, “the house that Quentin built.”

Tarantino can’t help but reference his influences in his work. Watching a Tarantino movie is like several lessons in pop culture. The film might be “Reservoir Dogs” where the topic of discussion is the meaning of Madonna’s lyrics in “Like a Virgin”, or “Kill Bill” and its scene that analyzes the virtues of Superman. Someone who shares his obsession with film might notice the several shots he borrows from various directors, or that the yellow track suit Uma Thurman wears in “Kill Bill” is the same that Bruce Lee wore in his final movie. Tarantino builds his film’s narrative structures around a multitude of such references, both topical and obscure, to varying degrees of success.

Daniel Mendelsohn, in his review of “Kill Bill” for The New York Books Review, compares watching a Tarantino film to being stuck “in a room with someone who, like so many of this director's characters, can't stop talking about the really neat parts in the movies he's seen. This is entertaining if you share his mania, but if you don't, he ends up being a bore.”

For fans that do share his mania, Tarantino has even begun to reference his own work for their viewing pleasure. The fictional brand of cigarettes he used in “Pulp Fiction,” Red Apple Cigarettes, has made an appearance in both “Kill Bill” and his latest work, “Death Proof.” In Tarantino’s twisted logic the name of a group of Mexican gangsters from “Kill Bill,” the Acuna boys, reappears as a chain of Mexican restaurants in “Death Proof.”

The great success of Tarantino’s films is evidence that a large chunk of America does share his mania for pop culture. In the final scene of “Pulp Fiction”, Jules tells Vincent that he’s quitting their life of crime because of his brush with the divine. When asked what he’s going to do with himself, Jules references a popular show from the 70’s, and says that he is “going to walk the earth, like Kane in KungFu.” This exchange, according to Stanley Crouch in his essay, “Blues in more than one color: The films of Quentin Tarantino,” shows “Tarantino’s understanding of how deep human reactions can be inspired by pulp; those who experience such reactions can be inspired by pulp; those who experience such reactions may only be able to describe them to others in the lingua franca of pulp.” Like the character’s he creates, and probably some of his fans, Tarantino isn’t able to express himself any other way.

Casting a President

Alessandra Stanley has a big problem with “John Adams”, a new historical HBO mini-series. She argues that Paul Giamatti is the wrong actor for the title part in an otherwise exceptional production, and that a “different one might have made “John Adams” great.” The problem with Stanley’s review is that she doesn’t convince me of this claim.

In paragraph seven she jokes that Giamatti looks like Shrek in “18^th century britches and wigs”, but then four paragraphs down she contradicts herself, writing that “it’s not a question of looks.” The only other example of Giamatti’s inadequacy that she provides is to say that he doesn’t make Adam’s “traits stand out distinctly enough.” She then negatively compares Giamatti to a 40 year old portrayal of Adams by William Daniels in a production of the musical “1776.” This comparison excludes anyone younger than 50, and also miss-leadingly compares the role of John Adams in two thematically different works. The rest of her piece is well written, but her failure to back her arguments with compelling evidence undermines her review.

Adding Something New

Ed Siegel’s profile of Michael Jackson is interesting and well crafted. It doesn’t become the garish piece on Jackson that it could have easily been, but instead seeks out an answer to how “the Prince of Pop became the King of Fools”. Siegel is sympathetic to Jackson who was never “prepared to be a player in the media universe.” He compares him to other icons whose personal lives have imploded, and then he transitions into an examination of our obsession with celebrities.

The profile starts with an illuminating lede about Jackson’s interest in the Elephant Man. Siegel immediately sets the tone and discusses Jackson’s erratic behavior early in the article. He knows that he must include coverage of the recent controversies, but by getting it out of the way first he frees himself to make broader points with his piece. This is a good model for any critical celebrity profile. The thoughts flow well and the transitions between paragraphs are smooth. It succeeds at saying something new about Jackson who has been a media event for a long time.

QT final project

Quentin Tarantino is one of the most recognizable directors working today, both in name and style. His character driven films laced with coarse but realistic dialogue and his use of obscure pop culture references have redefined the concept of cool, but his success has not come without controversy. Tarantino frequently borrows shots, plot concepts, and pieces of dialogue from his favorite films and incorporates them into his own creations. His critics say that these actions come dangerously close to plagiarism and leave his work devoid of substance. Those in support of the director argue that he’s a post-modern artist who borrows old defunct forms and creates new and meaningful things from their parts.

Tarantino is credited with popularizing the Independent film movement of the 90’s after the mega success of Pulp Fiction in 1994. Once it became the first Indie movie to gain over $100 million dollars domestically, big Hollywood studios began to buy out smaller Indie outfits and give them larger budgets, following the lead of Disney’s acquisition of Miramax. In an interview Harvey Weinstein (the co-owner of Miramax), referred to his company as, “The house that Quentin built.”

After years of frustration at school because of a struggle with dyslexia, Tarantino dropped out in the ninth grade to pursue an acting career. Bored with reality, his escape to Hollywood was his chance to merge his obsession with films to real life. Ultimately failing as an actor, Tarantino got a job at a video store in Manhattan Beach, California.

In his book, “What Happens Next?” a history of American screenwriting, Marc Norman pictures Tarantino as a feral child let loose in the library of Alexandria. All day long Tarantino was free to watch and discuss his favorites with co-workers in this bastion of cinema and get paid to do it. Tarantino didn’t go to film school like the generation of directors before him. (Spielberg, Scorsese, and Copolla) His education was pieced together from a horde of cheap flicks from around the world.

Watching a Tarantino movie is like a lesson in pop culture. The film might be Reservoir Dogs where the topic of discussion is the meaning of Madonna’s lyrics in Like a Virgin, or Kill Bill and its analysis of the virtues of Superman. Tarantino builds his narrative structure around a multitude of such references in his films to, depending on your opinion, varying degrees of success.

Daniel Mendelsohn reviewing Kill Bill for The New York Review of Books, compares watching a Tarantino film to being stuck, “in a room with someone who, like so many of this director's characters, can't stop talking about the really neat parts in the movies he's seen. This is entertaining if you share his mania, but if you don't, he ends up being a bore.”

The great success of Tarantino’s films is evidence that a large chunk of America does share his mania for pop culture. One example of this is Family Guy, partly influenced by Tarantino’s style. It is a spliced together, unfunny, reference heavy, animated show that takes the best of others ideas and diffuses them in cheap jokes until they lose all relevance. The show lacks any real substance and could only be popular with those who place a higher value on style rather than substance. (Or those with nothing better to watch at 3 in the morning) To fans that share the same mindset as Tarantino accusations of plagiarism are not taken seriously because things you learn from films and other media are more important than what happens in real life.

Or maybe the two are indistinguishable? In the final scene of Pulp Fiction, Jules tells Vincent that he’s quitting their life of crime because of his brush with the divine. When asked what he’s going to do with himself, Jules references a popular show from the 70’s saying that he is, “going to walk the earth, like Kane in Kung Fu.” Stanley Crouch writes in his essay, “Blues in more than one color: The films of Quentin Tarantino” that this exchange shows, “Tarantino’s understanding of how deep human reactions can be inspired by pulp; those who experience such reactions can be inspired by pulp; those who experience such reactions may only be able to describe them to others in the lingua franca of pulp.”

[Unfinished]

A Disjointed Oscars

The fate of the Oscars depended on the resolution of the writer’s strike, which had threatened to do to Oscar what it did to the Golden Globes, turn it into a glorified press conference. The strike was resolved just a week ago, and John Stewart was called in to try and helm an awards show that usually took months to prepare. Without the time to organize all the usual comedy bits and performances, this year’s Oscars were puffed up with unnecessary montages and interviews of past winners.

Last night ended up looking like a glorified clips show instead of the glamorous Oscars of better years. Stewart joked that if the strike hadn’t of been resolved there would have been even more gratuitous montages, like one on binoculars and periscopes in film. The joke was too close to the truth when thirty minutes later Jack Nicholson presented yet another painful slide show of all 79 past Best Picture winners. On top of this every segment of the show was ended with interviews of past winners. These weren’t all bad and it was cool to hear from Sydney Poitier, and Steven Spielberg, but was an interview of Elton John really necessary?

No Country for Old Men won the biggest awards of the night and the filmmaking duo behind it, the Coen brothers, took home Oscars for Best Picture, Directing, and Adapted Screenplay. The other best picture nominees all won at least one statue: Cinematography and Best Actor for Daniel Day-Lewis in There Will Be Blood, Original Screenplay for Juno, Best Supporting Actress for Tilda Swinton in Michael Clayton, and Best Original Score for Atonement.

The male acting awards went to the heavy favorites of Daniel Day-Lewis and Javier Bardem, but the women’s categories were surprises. Tilda Swinton and Marion Cotillard beat out the expected winners, Cate Blanchett and Julie Christie. Cotillard’s acceptance speech for Best Actress was the most moving of the night. Overwhelmed with gratitude and near tears she told the Academy, “You’ve rocked my life” and said there are still, “some angels in this city.” Cotillard won both the British and French versions of the Oscars for her role as Edith Piaf in La Vie En Rose.

The musical performances of the nominees for Best Original Song were mediocre and looked slapped together. The only good performance of the night came from the eventual winners, Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, for their work on Falling Slowly from Once. The song was beautifully enhanced with an orchestra, and Irglova was given a historic second chance to deliver her acceptance speech after having been played off by the orchestra.

The comedy bits (what few there were) with Stewart and other Hollywood stars were excellent this year considering the time constraints, and if the montages had been cut out, we would have been left with a shorter but better quality Oscars. Instead this year’s show was lumbering and disjointed.

Cheap and Easy Writing

In Politics and the English Language, George Orwell gripes about the state of modern writing that at its worst, “consists of gumming together long strips of words which have already been set in order by someone else.” Orwell values precision and detail in good writing, and is angered with the prevalence of tired metaphors and readymade phrases that either don’t mean what the author intends or don’t mean anything at all. This type of, “lifeless, imitative style” he compares to politics and political writings in which everyone but a few brave rebels follow the same party line. They use the same language and phrases, and come of as copies of one another. Orwell is also bugged by the pretentious use of fancy words with Latin or Greek roots; he prefers humbler Anglo-Saxon words. Despite his complaining he admits that he has, “committed the very faults he is protesting against.” I agree with Orwell’s thesis that there is a tradition of common metaphors and lifeless writing, but this is not something unique to the modern age; its human nature to imitate. The English Language isn’t in a state of crisis; most writers are just a little lazy.

NYT Defense: Something Wicked This Way Comes

Ben Brantley has been a theater critic at the New York Times for 15 years and chief theater critic for 12. He is in his 50’s and has a long list of writing credits including Elle, The New Yorker, and Vanity Fair. Brantley’s prominence as a critic is validated by his superbly written review of a new version of Macbeth. This incarnation of the Scottish Play features Patrick Stewart, best known as Captain Luc Picard from Star Trek, in the title role. The lead is a poetic interpretation of the forces at work in Macbeth’s mind. It is aesthetically pleasing, but it is also practical and sets up Brantley’s thorough analysis of Stewart’s performance. The review flows well and the transition from Stewart’s performance to an analysis of the set is smooth. The imagery that Brantley uses captures the feel and themes of the play. The “but” comes in the middle of the article where Brantley deems some of the director’s touches, “unnecessary and obstructive.” However, in a rare double “but”, he praises the fine cast in the next paragraph and the rest of the review is positive.

http://theater2.nytimes.com/2008/02/15/theater/reviews/15macb.html?pagewanted=1&sq=something%20wicked%20this%20way%20comes&st=nyt&scp=1