FTF Boo Rating
1 is good, 5 is bad.
OK, Quentin Tarantino has officially run out of credit now. Pulp Fiction was awesome, one of the best films I’ve ever seen. The next Tarantino film I saw was Jackie Brown. Jackie Brown was boring, but I let it go because Pulp Fiction was awesome. Then I saw Kill Bill, which was also boring, but again I let it go because Pulp Fiction was awesome. However, I just watched Death Proof, and I don’t care how awesome Pulp Fiction was, Quentin Tarantino needs to fuck off now.
Firstly, let’s talk about the feet. I’m not interested in feet. In fact, nobody other than 50 year old unemployed kerb crawlers is interested in feet. I have never been attacked by football hooligans or racists, but if I was, I’d imagine at some point I might be on the floor with a load of feet smashing into me, which would be the exact same experience as watching Death Proof.
I took notes while I was watching this film, this a quick snapshot of them:
- Girl sends text message, I didn’t need to see that
- Stuntman Mike gets a lap dance
- More feet
- Stuntman Mike kills everybody in the film
- Introduced to new characters
- For some reason it’s in black and white now
- More feet
- That hot girl I like is one of the new characters, that’s a bonus
- Colour comes back
- Boring conversation
- Stupid statistic gets raised which I’m going to complain about
- Black girl is apparently playing the role of a stereotype
- More Feet
Now, about that stupid statistic. One of the new characters is a black girl who, as mentioned in my notes, is playing the role of a stereotype. I will call her stereotype. Stereotype tells her friends she is carrying a gun, to which one of her friends says “You are more likely to get shot if you carry a gun than if you don’t”. Here’s why this is totally flawed logic. The only reason that statistic is true is that you are more likely to get shot if you live a lifestyle that necessitates the carrying of a gun. Most ganstas carry guns, therefore the vast majority of people who get shot are carrying a gun. This does not mean carrying a gun makes you more likely to get shot. Most gangstas wear baseball caps as well, that doesn’t mean you’re more likely to get shot if you wear a baseball cap. This is a correlation, not a cause.
This is similar to the annoying statistic that shows you are far more likely to have an accident on roads you know well than roads you don’t know well. Experts say this shows that you’re more likely to stop paying attention on the roads you know well, which will lead to you crashing. This ignored the blindingly obvious fact that the roads you know well are the ones you are on most often, which of course makes it more likely you will crash on them than a road you have never been on. Put it this way. I drive down the road my apartment is on every day. I have never been to Blackpool. I have had one car accident. Is it more likely that was in Blackpool, or the road outside my house?
The above two paragraphs were totally superfluous to the review of this film weren’t they? If I were reading this, I’d find that really fucking annoying. This leads me to another point. This film constantly just drowned itself in random boring conversations of no relevance to the plot, if there even was a plot. Every time Tarantino does this in a film now it gets more depressing. It’s like watching an ageing stripper parade herself to a group of uninterested punters. The “Royale with Cheese” conversation of her youth long gone, she desperately tried to recapture it in the hope for some semblance of attention and validation. But it’s gone, forever, and she should get off the pole now.
And finally, Uma Thurman. Uma Thurman wasn’t in Death Proof, but I still don’t like her, and I’m pretty sure it’s Tarantino’s fault she exists.