Carl is ranting again. This time, it's about Kill Bill. Having just read it, here are my two cents.

First, a disclosure: I have not yet seen the film, but have read the entire script (making me one of those asshats that get made fun of in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back)

A second disclosure: I also am not as learned on matters of cinema. I mean, didn�t you just read that I�in the year 2003 AD (or CE, for you non-religious nuts out there)�just saw Terminator and T2 for the first time? That said, I have seen movies, and I have even studied them a bit (on a personal academic level, and not some school assignment) when I was thinking of writing my own screenplay. So I do feel confident that I can make somewhat credible statements on film, though, they will likely be more attached to art in general, rather than film in particular.

Now, down to business.

First, I disagree that Mr. Tarantino is an obscurist. He�s just a genre-obsessive (or, film geek). That is, his world, even prior to being a filmmaker/screenwriter, revolves around movies. I�d venture to say that it�s all he really knows. Therefore, when he creates a movie of his own, it will reflect his pool of knowledge.

Let�s reframe the issue. Say you asked Don Shula to film a movie. What do you think the subject matter is going to be? If your first guess was anything other than football, you�re trying too hard and should be kicked square in the nuts. (And while I�ll concede that the man knows his way around a steak, I don�t think even he�d make a film around 100% angus cuts, knaamean?)

So, we�ve established that Shula will very likely make a movie about football. Now then, in the course of writing the script, don�t you think that there will be some football references�given his stature and longevity as a coach�that will make it into the film that only the most obsessive football fan will be able to identify? Does this make Shula an obscurist? Of course not. It�s a matter of knowing the details, details that he knows like the back of his hand. (Details that have, sadly, not reached his progeny.) What Shula would be doing is presenting as accurate a portrayal of his experience in football as he possibly can.

What does this all mean? My assertion is that the film that Tarantino made is not meant to be merely a three hour homage to his influences. Rather, I believe it to be one of the purest expressions of his point-of-view that he�s ever shown. One aspect of the film (I assume) that underscores this possibility is the film�s dialogue, or lack thereof. Honestly, from what I�ve seen and read, the story could probably be effectively told without a word being spoken. He doesn�t need to fill the void (read: keep the audience�s attention between action sequences) with pop-culture laced conversations. For once, it seems, film is being treated as a visual medium rather than a illustration for words on a page.

That, to me, is the simplest (or the least cynical/adversarial, anyway) explanation for the film�s overabundance of cinematic allusion. This isn�t �symbolism without meaning.� Rather, I believe Tarantino, instead of simply giving visual representation of what is essentially a short-story or novel, he�s trying to let the film (the visuals) tell the story itself. Consequently, in a world where the most mundane action needs some ridiculous amount of expository prose, he must rely on film �clich� to push the narrative forward. Had Tarantino taken the bold step of actually making this a non-talkie, this point would have been driven home more clearly. Of course, I don�t really think that Tarantino has the directorial skill to make an effective silent film, but that is not the point. The point is, I think he tried to take the saying �a picture is worth a thousand words� and run with it.

What I think is happening is that people (such as my friend Carl) are getting too caught up by the numerous references they don�t get, and assuming that Tarantino, because of the cult of personality that surrounds him, does it to show off his film-knowledge. And I would bet that�s not entirely untrue. But the references are incidental to the film�s higher purpose, that being pure cinematic expression. (In other words, not to be so reliant upon words in order to find �meaning� in the film.) You don�t need to know the concept of Bushido, own a Shaw Brothers movie, or masturbate to images of Pam Grier (70s style!) in order to appreciate or understand the film; therefore, why even be concerned with it? Are these same people bemoaning the genre-pastiche of Beck? Did they decry Pavement�s (in particular frontman Stephen Malkmus) encyclopedic knowledge of rock music and their willingness to throw it into their albums when they were releasing their early 90s classics? No, because Beck and Pavement are/were much more polite personalities and non-chalant about their knowledge, though I doubt they were any less enthusiastic. If Tarantino were an unassuming film-nerd (Todd Solondz, anybody?), I would bet there would be less complaints. But because he is this obnoxious loudmouth (yet genuinely talented) of a director, people tend to scrutinize his work and make assumptions about purpose that may not be there.

(Okay�now a bit of a reversal, so I can get out my own mini-rant.)

Now, let�s pretend for a moment that all of the preceding is bullflop. Let�s say that this is nothing but Tarantino showing off his knowledge of film. (�Check out the big brain on Quentin!�) Let�s just assume that there is no higher purpose to this film than making Quentin feel cooler than everybody else.

Considering all of that, I have this to say: so what?

This is the world we�ve created for ourselves in 2003, folks. Incessant allusion is the order of the day, and any artistic creation that doesn�t reference its own lineage will be less likely to gain favor among critics who have redefined their job as pseudo-journalists playing a game of �spot the influence.� In that light, Tarantino is the undisputed master of film.

And it�s not like there�s anything inherently wrong with knowing the influences of a particular work. As with anything, history gives us context. It should stop there, but it doesn�t. Instead, when you read a review of anything these days, many times you�ll find it�s less descriptive of the work than the influences upon the work. So how can anybody be upset that Tarantino, with Kill Bill, has presented a smorgasbord of cinematic nods and winks and in-jokes processed into one monstrous epic of blood and revenge? Kill Bill isn�t lazy filmmaking, it�s modern filmmaking.