Monday, 1 March 2010

I love Pulp Fiction by @maverick99sback

I was kind of relieved there was no deluge of requests for film reviews. It means this can be about things I want to write, and not about mise-en-scene in Hitchcock movies, or debating verisimilitude. I love films.  I'm unapologetic about that. I prob watch about five movies a week, and if I don't I get far bigger withdrawal symptoms than if I miss a few games of MW2. In tribute to @emmabunce though, she suggested I write about the films that have forged the soundtrack to my life. And that's about the best idea I could hope for, even if people had had loads of ideas. So, here goes...

The film that has most shaped my life is full of colour. Vivid colour. I remember watching it, and just being struck by the use of it. It looked great in VHS (*snigger*), so has to be my most eagerly awaited Bluray. It was the comeback of a childhood hero, Danny Zucko. And, from the PG version of Saturday Night Fever (why don't they do that anymore? One for the kids, one for the parents?) Its misconceived as being brutal, as very little happens onscreen. It has a phenomenal script, that even in 2010 has not been bettered by its director. (Although Inglourious Basterds is growing on me). It was my first memory of non linear structure. But most importantly, it shaped my relationship with my Dad.

I remember my Dad driving us back from a cinema trip, and we were talking films. I still love doing that to this day with my Dad, even though hes lost touch a bit. But, in true AT style, I always over did it. I couldn't get how people would then want to talk about anything else. So I kept going. And going. In this example, I told my Dad I had watched Pulp Fiction around a friends... even though I hadn't. Now, there was a theory. If he reacted badly/OK/well, it would clear the way for me to actually see it, and know he was OK with it. It was 1994, so I must have been 13.

He reacted somewhere between going mental and trying to crash the car to teach me a lesson. I was gutted. A) because I had lied, so there was no need to be in that situation anyway B) Because I wouldn't feel any better if I finally did see it. C) I still hadn't even seen it!

The issue was me thinking at 13 I was ready to see certain films. Dad knew I loved films, and wanted me to realise that I wasn't ready for some. I just always thought what was in my head if you stopped me seeing something, was always worse than what was on the screen. Mostly I've been right. (Ironically, in 2010, Antichrist became an example of when I was wrong). My Sister had gone off the rails a bit, and in hind site my Dad was trying to make sure I didn't go the same way. I see that now. Even though I have never touched drugs, or taken so much as a toke on a cigarette, to this day, Vincent Vega is iconic for me. A hero. And hes a hit man who is addicted to heroin, and adultery. Not a great role model for a 13 year old.

In the end, my Dads logic to this day astounds me. When we got home, we had a film show. Not Pulp. It wasn't on VHS (*sniggers*) yet. And as a Police Officer, Dad was never going to condone piracy. (And neither do I!) We watched John Carpenters The Thing. To this day, my favourite Horror film, and probably one of the most graphically violent films around. But there was a theory...

Pulp Fiction could be construed as a replica of real life. (God I wish I could say... "Don't be such a... (and actually DRAW a square in lights, instead of saying it). The Thing was (hopefully), pure Science Fiction. It pandered to my need to see films that I knew I couldn't, whilst also reminding me SOME films, were worth watching later in life. Obviously I saw Pulp pretty much the next day. I knew Dad wouldn't condone it, but knew he knew, that I knew (Dodgeball joke), I would see it.

And do you know what? I'm still surprised to this day that Butch doesn't use the chainsaw. It was MUCH worse in my head.

"Now, I don't know if this milkshake is worth $5, but its pretty fucking good"