On 2003: Kill Bill: Volume 1

I had never seen Kill Bill. I had actually grown up thinking that Quentin Tarantino was one of the most overhyped directors of the modern era. I mean, I had seen Reservoir Dogs before I graduated high school, okay? So I totally knew what that guy was about. As I grew up, I didn’t see anything from his movies to disaffirm my notion that this guy was overhyped, by a masculine-dominant culture that loves to put weird white boys on pedestals and anoint them as geniuses.

Inglorious Basterds? Once Upon a Time in Hollywood? And yes, even Pulp Fiction? What’s the big deal? Long scenes that tested my attention. Violence that seemed to be for violence’s sake. That dialogue? Anyone could come up with that if they tried hard enough. Right. Right?

“Maybe,” says Quentin.

As I started getting older and embarking on my movie education, I had to give QT a little more credit. Upon seeing True Romance, which the guy didn’t even direct, I had to admit that his dialogue sounded pretty singular to the ear, that his structure and the way he brought characters together for final showdowns felt exciting, unexpected, and unique. But mostly, I was still of the opinion that this guy had struck lightning at the right time, that he had ridden the wave of 1994 to land on this permanent atoll of status where he could do no wrong, even if his films were nothing more than high octane neo-noirs that owed great, great debts to previous movies.

Before Kill Bill: Volume 1, Tarantino hadn’t released a movie for six years. His previous film was 1997’s Jackie Brown, which made more than six times its budget ($74.7 million on a budget of $12 million), but received a far cooler critical and cultural reception than 1994’s Pulp Fiction. According to Vanity Fair, there were rumors that he had burnt out, that he had become a pothead, that he had writer’s block and could no longer write without his former writing partner, Roger Avary. He was apparently working on Inglorious Basterds before this film was shot, which goes to show you how long it can take for an idea to go from your head to the screen if it ever gets there (Basterds was released in 2009).

Possible Spoiler Alert Ahead for Kill Bill: Volume 1…

One thing I’m grateful for being in Los Angeles currently is the sheer amount of repertory houses available to see older movies in theaters, with a crowd. That may sound awful to some people in this day and age, especially when audiences of loud talkers and popcorn eaters can ruin a movie for you. I think what I like about going to see movie at repertory houses is that you’re generally seeing them with fans of the medium, fans of movies not just as something to watch, but as artifacts given a certain kind of cultural esteem. In short, movies are given an atmosphere of respect in these revival houses, that doesn’t take away from their entertainment value. Not everyone who comes is an avid movie fan, but if you’re coming to Hollywood to see Terminator 2: Judgment Day in a theater on a Friday afternoon, it’s probably safe to say you value something about movies as a cultural form, as well as the theatrical experience. I've been really grateful to places like the New Beverly, the Aero, and the American Cinematheque for getting to see how older films play in theaters to crowds, and realizing the power of movies in this heightened atmosphere.

I saw Kill Bill: Vol 1 at the New Beverly on a Saturday at 2 p.m. The house was packed, but again, respectful. No outbursts from audience members trying to be clever during certain scenes, nobody looking at their phones and having the light sear your eyes in the dark theater as you’re trying to watch a movie. I do believe I would have enjoyed Kill Bill: Volume 1 had I seen it at home. I thought the movie was fun, entertaining, suspenseful, well-shot, very well-edited, and most importantly, didn’t take itself too seriously. However, getting to see this kind of film in such an engaged cinematic atmosphere, surrounded by people who are deeply enjoying the film and who thoroughly movies as a form of art and entertainment — it makes the viewing experience more special and memorable. There’s an energy in the air you can’t quite put your finger on, but that pulses throughout the theater as you’re watching, and doesn’t quite leave you until you’re in the car on your way home.

I was fourteen when this movie was released on October 10th, 2003. If I had fortune to see this around that age, either by movie hopping at the theater or upon home video release, I would have been gobsmacked. This movie would have blown my mind. Not only because of the unabashed violence (including in one hell of an animated sequence), but also because of just how cool Uma Thurman is in this movie. What characters could have been cut from the same cloth at the time of the movie’s release, that would have made close to the same impression? Sarah Connor (Terminator)? Ripley (Alien)? Samantha Caine (The Long Kiss Goodnight)? Since 2003, we’ve had Domino and Lucy and Atomic Blonde and maybe have come to take it for granted that women, at least to a certain extent, can star in movies and kick some butt (I’m talking about in movies like Widows too). But before Kill Bill: Volume 1, I feel like it was far more commonplace to see women in action on the small screen. Think Buffy, Dark Angel, Alias, etc.

I want to say that at points during the climactic final fight, you could hear a pin drop in the theater. I hadn’t experienced that kind of thrill in a long time. And after seeing this movie with a cinematic eye that I hope has matured since 2003, I have to appreciate Quentin Tarantino’s direction on this film, along with the craftsmanship of his collaborators. Sally Menke’s editing, Robert Richardson’s choreography, and Yuen Woo-Ping’s choreography on are all top-notch, and I don’t think the House of Blue Leaves sequence would have been as effective without Catherine Marie Thomas’ costumes, and David Wasco and Yohei Tanada’s production design. And all the actors are excellent, from Darryl Hannah as a fellow assassin (a terrific surprise) to Chiaki Kuriyama as a bodyguard. Everyone knows what page they’re on — and that’s thanks to Quentin Tarantino having such a strong vision.

One more thing I want to say. Some of the world’s greatest filmmakers have directed and written movies starring women in iconic action and thriller roles, from James Cameron (Ripley in Aliens; Sarah Connor in Terminator) to David Fincher (Lisbeth Salander in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo). I believe these female lead characters display similar qualities: composure under pressure, a high level of intelligence, a strong sense of justice. There will come a time when it won’t matter whether a movie is written and directed by a male or female, because there will be gender equity in the industry. But for now, straight white males have had a hold on the culture for so long, and did even more so in 2003 when Kill Bill: Vol 1 was released. Therefore, it’s worth it to explore the movie through this lens, which is not to be confused with a declaration that the picture sucks or is flawed, simply because it portrays a masculine ideal of a female in an action-based context.

Man, that was a mouthful. But I want to wrap this up by saying that I can’t help wondering what it’d be like to see an action or martial arts movie written by a woman, starring a woman as a lead female character who gets to kick ass. What would this woman be like? Would she be as tough and stoic as Sarah Connor? Connor didn’t have to be some badass militia babe even with her awful circumstances; James Cameron wrote her that way. And I say this as someone who thinks Sarah Connor is a really great character, with the kind of drive you hope to be able to capture in a screenplay.

I can’t help thinking of Thelma and Louise, directed by Ridley Scott but written by Callie Khouri, and how the protagonists of the film weren’t defined by their stoic nature or drive or intensity. They were far more than a collection of traits that all added up to being tough. Thelma and Louise were people, multifaceted people, who were allowed to be strong but also weak and thoughtless and irritated and petty and kind and caring and vulnerable in terribly adverse circumstances. I wish I could write characters like this. I wish more memorable lead female characters in the action genre were like this.