If your name starts with “Q,” you better hang on to that shit.
If by some bizarre cosmic coincidence, you acquire the nickname “Q” (esp. if there is no letter “q” in your name [Claudia, you lucky duck,]) you should try to retain that throughout your life also.
Q is a bad-ass moniker.
Which leads me to my next subject: I (still) love Quentin Tarantino. Honestly, I had to watch “Inglorious Basterds” three times to get through it. The first few times I saw it, I couldn’t/wouldn’t focus. The movie seemed cliche QT, but not grandiose-in-that-fun-way that he does so so well. Brad Pitt’s accent was a bit forced, some of the violence was luke-warm (I like my violence icy cold or burning hot.) I wish the Pitt charachter was played by Uma Therman in an anti-Ilsa-she-wolf-way. Purr.
I should preface this by saying I have a deep love and admiration for Quentin Tarantino’s film. He has a reputation for being very professional, but nice to the people around him. Cool to work with. He tends to work on schedule, and keep things under budget. Or so I hear.
“Reservoir Dogs” changed my life. It really did. It is one of the reasons I do film. The first time I saw it was on pay preview. I was mesmerized like I never had been before. Ok, “Star Wars” (episodes 4-6, duh.) is close, but different. Nostalgia love is different than love of something fresh, something novel, something that’s still shiny and new. After my first viewing of “Reservior Dogs” I sat and watched it at least two more times. Reservior dogs. It’s like that. And that’s the way it is.
Everyone is a critic. It’s hard to be original & creative with everything produced, all the time. It is said, if you really love something, you should look at it occasionally with critical objectivity. I wanted to like IB. I loved the characters, but the first few viewings didn’t really take. I didn’t like all of the action. I’d seen much better, ultra-violent, sadistic, torture-y scenes by Tarantino: Roth screaming in Keitel’s back seat; Madsen cutting off the ear; Walken interrogating Dennis Hopper; Gandolfini seriously beating the shit out of Patricia Arquette; Samuel L.’s Big Kahuna Burger “What?!” conversation; Ving’s pawn shop red-neck-rape, the Bride coming out of a coma & Buck, any given scene from the last half of “Death Proof” or the “Sin City,” segment he directed… I’m sure I’m forgetting a bunch of them. (I have to wash out my brain now.) I always thought Mr. Tarrantino a master of the craft, a genius at retelling stories. He made action violent and violence pretty. Sexy, aluring, perfect violence. That’s what I expect from QT.
No one is perfect.
I think I have a healthy distrust of anything the Academy of Motion Picture Arts gives a lot of attention to. The voting process seems, as many things are, drenched in BS & politics. I don’t mean to badmouth the Academy, but who sees your film & votes for it depends on which films have the money to distribute their work to the Academy voters. Many of the voters of the Academy are older. There are a few interesting articles about the process:
You have to click on the tab, top-right side of the page, but this is the best article I found:
This one is okay:
So you see why I am a little sceptical of anything the academy celebrates; I usually think of those movies as stuffy, boring, or just plain lame.
Just a little patience, yeahhhh, yeah.
Josh Walton said: “One of the things that differentiates humans from animals is the ability to reserve judgment.”
Paraphrased, but, I’ll always remember that.
I watched ”Inglorious Basterds” again. I must say, the end justifies the means. I won’t ruin it. No spoiler alerts here, EVAR. Over all, it was pretty good, definitely worth the watch.
That’s all I hope for with most movies now-a-days. Sometimes I’m pleasantly suprised. I’m less disapointed when I am disappointed. Don’t get me wrong. I love movies. Movies are fun. Movies are transformative, psychologically, intellectually, spiritually. Movies are magic.
Thank you, Quentin Tarantino, (wherever you are,) for making me something complex, cool and thoughtful. Pretty and weird. Luscious and dirty.