Death Proof: Extended and Unrated (2007)
This post assumes you’ve seen Death Proof. Plot is discussed.
You’ll note that the phrasing found on the box of the Death Proof DVD never once uses the often irresponsibly applied words “director’s cut” to sell the film. Death Proof, which originally appeared as Quentin Tarantino’s 85 minute half of the double- feature/experiment Grindhouse, has been lengthened by about twenty minutes, and the changes, while largely subtle, have significantly improved the picture. If this isn’t Tarantino’s preferred cut of the film, then it damn well should be.
But I’m not going to use Death Proof’s alterations as an excuse to revise my opinion of the film, truthfully, my view was probably subject to revision anyway. I enjoyed Grindhouse in the theatre, but faithful readers will remember that I found Death Proof to be a hedging of bets: bad-boy, have your post-modern cake and eat it too posturing that was too chicken shit to simply commit to the disreputable genre at hand.
Many applauded Tarantino’s newest narrative gambit, which essentially divided the film into two long acts, but I found that to be perverse in a way that wasn’t exhilarating at all: two prolonged, banal acts of exposition (typically found in slasher films) for the price of one. At the time of Grindhouse, I believed that the bravest thing that Tarantino could’ve done was to simply give us what he’d promised us: a damn horror movie. A slasher film with Kurt Russell directed by Quentin Tarantino should be more fun than 80 odd minutes of (with a few exceptions) boring actresses trading various not up too par bon mots. As his detractors have said, the famed Tarantino dialogue was beginning to sound an awful lot like the wannabes.
I missed the point.
Death Proof is a savage battle of the sexes horror comedy as well as a surprisingly sensual past versus present shocker. Tarantino has made the most erotic horror picture in immediate memory. The film takes the sexist resentment that lurks under most slasher pictures and throws it back in our faces. Upon original viewing, I found the first group of girls (Sydney Poitier, Jordon Ladd, Vanessa Ferlito) to be intolerably self-absorbed and shallow. Their girl-girl confidence was clearly a put-on, and ripe for the intervention of the big bad wolf of the piece, Stuntman Mike (Kurt Russell). The brilliance of the first half is that (admit it) you’re nearly rooting for Russell’s Stuntman. But we should ask ourselves guys, why do we hate this first set of girls? Because they’ve adopted the cavalier fuck first ask questions never attitude that is normally reserved for men in the movies. And look for the savagery that clearly lurks in the emasculated men on the sidelines, watch as the Eli Roth character talks of pouring a few more shots “down these bitches’ throats.”
While the film may put us in the odd position of vaguely rooting for Mike at first (at least until Tarantino pulls the rug out in a murder scene of tone shattering cruelty), Death Proof isn’t perverse wish-fulfillment, it’s a farce of female objectification, the exact sort that typically occurs in filmmakers, fanboys or other delayed adolescents. Watch how Tarantino’s camera soaks in Poiter’s fleshy derriere or her long limbs in the rain illuminated by her billboard in the background, or watch the way Rose McGowan (in the best performance other than Russell’s to be found here) leans into Mike’s car and nearly purrs. This is the dance between the girls and the geek, the haves and the have-nots, just as much as De Palma’s Carrie. It’s a testament to Tarantino’s fluency with the genre that he’s managed to stage a film in which both the haves and the have-nots win.
And what about Kurt Russell as Stuntman Mike? My only regret with the part is that it isn’t larger; I was always, even when I had issues with the film, enthusiastic about this performance. Russell is a tough guy, but he’s always been a tough guy of seemingly boundless comic wit and invention. The key may be his voice; it’s softer than you expect: poignant even, it doesn’t jive with his rough around the edges good looks. Kurt Russell manages to personify John Wayne, the Prom King, and the sardonic best friend who never actually gets the girl simultaneously. Tarantino, a clear fan, has written a part in Stuntman Mike that manages to capitalize on ALL of that. I love how Mike, even when he’s got the charm turned on, can’t help but let out the barely contained rage that drives him to do what he does. Watch how the girls always get his name wrong, and watch how each correction is just a little closer to sounding like the kind of guy who would splatter someone on the highway just for the fun of it.
If Tarantino’s dialogue has gone soft and indulgent in recent years (and it has, starting with Kill Bill Vol. 2) then his eye as a director has become disciplined and more impressive in each subsequent picture. I love the rough-hewn vibrant heat that Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction give off, but they, visually, are stagier affairs. Jackie Brown (possibly my favorite Tarantino film) maintains the grit, but the camera work is more fluid and beautiful (the film has my favorite murder sequence in the Tarantino canon so far: Jackson’s killing of Chris Tucker, framed in an elegant long shot that’s showy but essential to character: we, in one shot, get Jackson’s casual, animal immorality). Kill Bill Vol. 1, a genre defining masterpiece, and Kill Bill Vol. 2, fascinating but uneven, took Tarantino even further visually and revealed him to be a crack action director in the bargain.
This brings us back to Death Proof, which sees Tarantino, as a pure visual artist, at the height of his powers. I’ve read the Death Proof screenplay and, on paper, it’s, well, it’s a colossal disappointment, particularly when you consider the past characters that Tarantino has created. On the screen though, Tarantino’s aim becomes clearer (what we’ve already discussed about sexism, blah, blah) and the once tiresome dialogue and awkward performances punctuate a growing, masterfully sustained tension of sexually charged dread. The opening fifty minutes of Death Proof prove, beyond any doubt, that Tarantino can own the horror genre any day he damn well pleases.
And then the film releases itself, and Mike walks away the victor, having come whether the ladies were interested in him coming or not. A cop, who fans of the director will recognize as Earl MacGraw (Michael Parks), contemplates going off the grid to prove that Mike intentionally killed those girls even though every bit of evidence indicates to the contrary. In a funny genre wink, MacGraw says fuck it and elects to follow NASCAR as usual.
Of course it doesn’t matter, because Stuntman Mike gets cocky and wanders over into a different genre altogether, a high-octane car-chase movie that doesn’t as readily tolerate him. The girls of this half are a truly empowered, (the girls of the first half were all pretense, these ladies are the real thing) appealing bunch. Zoë Bell may not be an actress, but she’s charming. Rosario Dawson brings timing, and yes, even a bit (just a bit) of pathos to the role, and I’m GUARANTEEING you that the beautiful Mary Elizabeth Winstead was hired because of her resemblance to Meg Tilly circa Psycho II. Tracie Thoms is the super-duper verbal firebrand of the bunch, and while I wish we’d gone in a direction that less resembles Tarantino’s collaborations with Samuel L. Jackson, I’ll live with it, if, for nothing else, because it’s a relief from the MySpace-cell phone chitter-chatter of the prior segment (more of that past/present stuff, Mike’s a pure old school TV, no CGI, no cell phone, no diet man.)
In short, Stuntman Mike’s descension upon these girls feels like a true intrusion, you want his ass to be kicked, and it is kicked, in a prolonged car chase of giddy, explosive, pure cinema joy. The ending of the film was another original problem of mine, I felt that Tarantino should’ve played harder and darker, but, upon re-watching, I actually found this tone more unsettling: the murder of Mike, who’s been reduced to a victim more pathetic than anyone in either half of the film, is treated casually, as a throw away joke even. These young movie freaks are driven to kill at the drop of a hat (though I guess attempted vehicular homicide might rate a tad higher than carelessness with head apparel on the offense-o-meter).
As thrilling as Death Proof can be at its best, I feel now that Tarantino, with this and two Kill Bills has completed his essay on the films he loves so much more than most people (myself included). It’s time to wed the newfound visual gamesmanship with the emotional urgency of the first three films, and to discard the crutch that is the devotion to obscure movies of yesteryear. After the hall-of-mirrors reflexiveness of the last few films, that would be the most shocking thing Tarantino could do: daring someone to give a shit, daring someone to accept something that hasn’t been (however expertly) pre-digested.
★★★½
February 24th, 2008 at 2:26 am
Wow, so many thoughts and so little time (I’ve got to get to bed one of these hours)…
I love everything about the extended cut save for one thing, which I believe is the new introduction of Stuntman Mike. Before, the first shot of hit at all was him devouring his appetizer at the bar, which I thought was a perfect way to introduce him. In the extended version we see him plain as day sitting in his car watching as the gals walk into the bar. Sometimes you have to forego “sense” in favor of mood. It’s kind of like the extended cut of Jaws where we see Quint before his nails-on-the-chalkboard “theatrical cut” arrival. Yeah, it’s nice to see Quint before that sequence–but, I’d much rather have him introduced the way he’s introduced. Having Stuntman Mike introduced the way he is in the extended versio bugged me a little. A small thing, I know.
Having seen this now three times, I can safely say it gets better with each viewing. It’s definitely in my Top Ten of 2007. To me, it’s a significantly more major work from Tarantino than Kill Bill for a variety of reasons. I actually thought Death Proof was the summation of what he was going after in Kill Bill. His interest in “girl power”–which began with Jackie Brown–felt a little labored in Kill Bill, and there’s no question that the whole revenge saga of Uma Thurman’s, while surely enjoyable, becomes a bit tedious by the halfway point of the second half (so, let’s say the end of the third quarter?).
Here, though, rather than flailing away at that theme, he distills it and finds the purer aspects of it. It’s more primal and more immediately exciting, but it’s also deeper. (Not to say there’s no depth in Kill Bill. Actually, the final big act of the film, which the title promises will occur eventually, is played to great depth of feeling and made much more poignant than one may have guessed going in.) As you note, the slaying of Stuntman Mike is made funny and quietly repugnant all at once. As the old clilche goes, the hunter has become the hunted and these chicks are going to simply destroy him.
Kurt Russell gives a great performance and it’s kind of a shame that the supporting actor category was so stuffed with fantastic performances because I would have loved to have seen him nominated (yeah, right).
I’d like to see Tarantino move on now, too. I know he has more in him. I want to believe he has another Jackie Brown (his masterpiece) in him. The box office failure of Grindhouse sort of points to a new direction, perhaps, and the possibility of Tarantino darting off into more unchartered waters.
Or, maybe he’ll take six years off and shoot a scene of a Robert Rodriguez movie, who knows?
February 24th, 2008 at 8:45 am
Alexander I basically agree with everything you’ve written here, with the new Mike intro being a particularly good point. I love the new stuff though: the lap dance should’ve never been cut, and is the culmination of everything that’s been simmering in the first half (it’s also pretty hot) as well as the gas station scene that opens the second half. These passages make the film weirder, groovier and sexier, more confident.
I just re-watched Kill Bill 2 last night after writing this post, and I agree with your 3/4 remark. The film loses me right after Daryl Hannah loses her second eye. Labored is the perfect word, I don’t buy the emotional payoff between Bill and Beatrix. It feels like a robot’s impression of a romance, and, besides that, it feels absolutely ENDLESS. The dialogue is forced, and strives for some sort of poetic quality that just feels a bit ridiculous. They should have had that swrodfight that Bill proposes by the beach (which was the end of the original script if memory serves.)
But I love KB 1, and the first half of KB 2. The first hour of the second film is actually my favorite of the total four hours. Tarantino may not quite sell the Bill/Beatrix thing at the end (though, ironically, he sells it just fine in the terrific opening of the second picture) but he really sells the broken bond between Bill and Budd (love this Madsen performance.)
I love all the little things that go unsaid in QT pictures, I love that the gang has split and everyone hates Bill but we never get a clear idea why. I also love that Budd didn’t sell his sword, but that it isn’t lingered on, its a bit of poignance for the viewer to pick out if they like.
February 25th, 2008 at 1:12 pm
Very interesting turnabout Chuck. Even having liked Death Proof a bit more than you from the outset, I still agree that I’m ready for QT to take his skills to a new level, in a way similar to what the Coens and Paul Thomas Anderson did in 2007.
Instead of simply buffing up old genres and proving how much he knows about them, I want to see him truly innovate. I want him to surprise me.
February 25th, 2008 at 1:24 pm
Good review.
I thought the extended cut gave a better flow to the incessant dialogue, but I found the women to be exactly the types I see or hear everyday in Los Angeles. That’s not a compliment. I showed DEATH PROOF to my girlfriend, a Texan and Austinite, and she HATED all the characters and their dialogue. Trust me, the women in Austin have far more depth and wisdom than the ladies in the first half of DP. I still it’s the worst dialogue QT’s ever written.
The second half is more interminable because of the “who you shagging” tv style writing, and I hate Tracie Thoms and her “I’m going to tap that ass” lines. Sure, QT loves these women, but honestly, if you met any of them in person, would you be interested? Only Zoe perhaps. Of course, I’m not interested in any woman that would spend 20 bucks for Vogue over SHOCK CINEMA…
In the end, only Russell and yes, McGowan stand out to me. And if you have Kurt Russell in a movie, use the time. He was a one or two scenes away from Supporting Actor material here. And if you’re trying to train the yuts to understand exploitation, you have to deliver. DEATH PROOF is too busy trying to subvert the films without giving us the things that made us watch them to begin with.
But really, I still love this thing, if only because the least of QT is the best of others. Just give me the whole GRINDHOUSE film as it was meant to be seen.
Okay, I’m behind on my QT Film Fest reoprt. It’s because of you Chuck that I’m going longer…
February 26th, 2008 at 5:41 am
Craig: It’s funny you mention PTA in regards to Tarantino. A few weeks after watching Blood, I wrote this essay about how Tarantino and Wes Anderson (haven’t seen in Darjeeling yet) and some of the other 90s boys should take a page from Fincher and P. Anderson and stop rotely re-exploring the same terrain over and over. I didn’t post it, it was way too general, and came off a bit bitchier than I wanted, but that comment reminded me of that.
Christian: Agree with everything you wrote here. The biggest change for me in Death Proof isn’t that the bad got better its that the good got MUCH better, if that makes any sense.
Loving the longer QT coverage too.
February 26th, 2008 at 11:45 pm
Christian, that’s interesting about the women sounding less Austin and probably more LA. Did Tarantino feel obligated to set Death Proof in Austin because of Rodriguez?
In any event, I just wanted to say explicitly that I too liked the extended scenes such as the lap dance and the sequence where Stuntman Mike ever so gently touches one of the girl’s feet (obsessed much, Quentin?).
Death Proof may not be Tarantino’s best film–and it isn’t–but, man, the three times I’ve seen it I’ve been quite struck by the *mood* of the film. And more so each time. It’s one of those experiences where you feel like, “Yeah, I’d like to live in this movie for a while.” I’m writing specifically about the looong but wonderful bar of Tarantino’s (his character’s). That’s a bar I’d actually like to hang out in, even though, like Stuntman Mike, I don’t drink alcohol.
I’d like to think that’s where my similarities with Stuntman Mike end.
Chuck, I’d like to see that essay of yours. I’ve been discussing the class of the ’90s lately with friends. Interestingly, I never thought that much about PTA until There Will Be Blood whereas I love Tarantino’s work from the ’90s. I also kind of consider Steven Soderbergh to be a guy of the ’90s even though sex, lies and videotape was technically released in 1989. Craig knows how I feel about him (love/like his ’90s output–been severely disappointed in his ’00s stuff). Wes Anderson, from Bottle Rocket to Rushmore to The Royal Tenenbaums, seemed to get better and better and reach higher and higher but since then his needle has arguably been stuck (and I say that as someone who *liked*, didn’t *love* The Life Aquatic). M. Night Shyamalan has been a train wreck of egomania run amok. David O. Russell, I feel ill-equipped to speak about because I’ve only seen Three Kings though Craig recommended I Heart Huckabees and therefore I’ve got to get around to seeing that very soon. Kimberley Peirce finally has another film coming out–Stop-Loss–though I wasn’t a big fan of Boys Don’t Cry.
Anyway, I like how Tarantino took from so many great cult films like Vanishing Point and Duel here. And whether or not we like the final results, the audacity of giving the whole enterprise that “Tarantino spin” is pretty remarkable to behold.
February 27th, 2008 at 7:25 am
Ok so I just posted a response to these comments and it disappeared for some reason, my work computer seems determined to prevent me from not working, but the last laugh is on him!
Alexander, I have a bad habit of not keeping writing of mine that I don’t care for, so I’m not sure if that essay still exists, I’ll look around, and if it does, I’ll be happy to forward it, if not, maybe I’ll give it another go in a future, perhaps multi-parted, post.
I don’t have time to re-write everything else I just posted here, so here’s a few bullets:
I actually prefer Life Aquatic to Tenenbaums, I think it ages better and is less eager to please and more introverted, the ending with the shark is beautiful. An enterprising college student, I think, could write a decent thesis comparing LA to Jackie Brown. I don’t like LA half as much, but I think they have a similar misunderstanding and passing test of time about them.
Soderbergh can be accused of many things, rote repeat is assuredly not one of them I wish he would intellectualize less and think with his balls more, but I’m a big fan, and his filmography is one of the most adventurous and impressive in the modern movies. My favorite is King of the Hill, with a photo-finish for second going to The Limey.
I thought Boys Don’t Cry was sensual and effective, though its not one I return to much. It stands as the only time I bought Hilary Swank in a movie, if for nothing else than she’s SUPPOSED to come off stilted and sel-conscious there.
February 29th, 2008 at 12:50 pm
Alexander, QT set DP in Austin bcause he truly loves the town (as I do). If you hop over to my blog you can read my whole endless coverage of his film fest there in 99.
But I agree. Altho I think PLANET TERROR works as a grindhouse film, there’s something about DP that makes me go back, possiby because it does remind me of my time in Austin and QT’s film fest was him pumping the well for KILL BILL and GRINDHOUSE.
I think the women in DP are probably like the ones Tarantino knows in LA, hence their general vapidity. And I think he was trying too hard to play to a SEX IN THE CITY female crowd.
But Austin women are the best. If you need a girlfriend, I suggest you pay a visit. They’ll find you.
February 29th, 2008 at 7:31 pm
Christian, thanks for the tip. I’ll check your blog out and read about your coverage of his film fest. I distinctly remember reading you write over at H-E about Tarantino speaking about the reception of Jackie Brown being similar to the reception of Peckinpah’s Junior Bonner and finding that rather poignant.
Don’t need a girlfriend right now–my girlfriend these days is a bewitchingly beautiful Hungarian immigrant–but thanks for that tip as well. I didn’t think of the Sex in the City connection to the dialogue of the women but that makes sense.
Chuck, thanks so much for those bullet points. Truth be told, I’ve yet to revisit any of Wes Anderson’s films aside from The Royal Tenenbaums. I probably should do that if I want to be a more qualified judge.