Kill Bill Part 1

by Mike Shea on 12 October 2003

I saw "" earlier today. I feel like a different person. I know how tacky that sounds, how childish, but that movie did something to me. To see a movie that unbridled, that free to do whatever it wanted to, is something we don't see in a lot of Hollywood movies anymore.

What struck me at first, and perhaps still is, is the violence. It is an amazingly violent movie, but I say that in the best way. It doesn't apologize for its violence, it doesn't ask for or accept forgiveness for its content. It is a movie that won't fit into any traditional genre. The Blockbuster drones will probably stick this under "Action" but that doesn't begin to do it justice.

I've started pondering the idea that no single entity makes a good movie except the movie itself. If actors are paint, simply color to add to a palate in order to show flowers or a bus or a starry night or a screaming ugly dude, than the director is just the painter. None of that really matters. Tarantino doesn't matter. Robert De Niro doesn't matter. Brian De Palma doesn't matter. Fucking Jennifer Andison sure as shit doesn't matter. What matters is the movie. Only the movie. It is good or bad. It helps us define ourselves. Bad movies play off of our existing emotions. Good movies give us new ones.

Kill Bill is fury unleashed. It is a graphic novel on film. It uses whatever weird brush stroke Tarantino wanted to use at the moment. He put in stuff he liked and cut out stuff he didn't. The plot is non-existent because it would probably have been tedious and all together unimportant. What mattered was the scene, the moment. What mattered was watching Uma Thurman turn the Crazy 88 Yakuza army into hamburger with a Samurai sword.

Its only a short time after seeing it, but I feel like I was hit by a train. Kill Bill is an incredible movie.

If anyone is having trouble seeing where Kill Bill fits into the Tarantino empire, I only have three words for you: Fox Force Five.

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