Quentin Tarantino confesses it’s “not about real life, it’s just about other movies,” which is damaging enough, but worse given that I have seen so few of the movies it’s about. (Leone yes, chopsocky no, e.g.) I appreciate the energy and passion with which the Kill Bill epic is made, and there is an undeniable excitement to it, both visually and aurally. And it doesn’t hurt to structure your film around a physical object like Uma Thurman, though as an actress she’s capable of a lot more truth than she gets to show here. Anyway, I watched this martial arts Western, foxy lady revenge fantasy against my natural inclination, more or less to confirm my exclusion of Tarantino from my “Dozen Directors Under 50” film series. I didn’t hate it, but didn’t like it either. But if this is what the art of film comes down to, then I’m not particularly interested, unwilling to invest my time and attention in such. My feeling, of course, is that film can get a lot closer to real life, and the more it does so, the better. (2003/4, dvd, n.) *5* (MC-83, RT-83.)
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