The Sound and the Fury – 25 years of Tarantino | Little White Lies

The Sound and the Fury – 25 years of Tarantino

21 Jan 2017

Words by Victoria Luxford

Two men in suits talking in a dimly lit, industrial-looking room with brick walls and windows.
Two men in suits talking in a dimly lit, industrial-looking room with brick walls and windows.
It’s a quar­ter of a cen­tu­ry since Reser­voir Dogs changed cin­e­ma for­ev­er. But how has its mak­er evolved over the years?

On 21 Jan­u­ary, 1992, Reser­voir Dogs pre­miered at the Sun­dance Film Fes­ti­val, launch­ing the career of its cock­sure young direc­tor. Regard­less of whether the reac­tion was one of love, hate, fas­ci­na­tion or dis­gust, there was no avoid­ing the fact that a bold new cin­e­mat­ic voice had been found. A quar­ter of a cen­tu­ry and eight (offi­cial) movies lat­er, Quentin Taran­ti­no remains a firm fix­ture in Hollywood’s con­stant­ly shift­ing land­scape. So how have things changed in since his tri­umphant arrival on the scene, and what lies ahead for the famous­ly out­spo­ken Amer­i­can auteur?

But first, let’s head back to Sun­dance. Twen­ty-five years ago, the for­mer video store clerk rocked up to Park City, Utah with a low-bud­get crime flick described in the offi­cial pro­gramme as Jim Thomp­son meets Samuel Beck­ett – a fusion of pulp dra­ma, black humour and the exis­ten­tial­ist void by a tal­ent­ed young film­mak­er.” At the pre­mière, the buzz was pal­pa­ble. Fes­ti­val direc­tor Geoff Gilmore was appre­hen­sive about how the film’s grit­ty sub­ject mat­ter and stark genre tone would be received. But while some audi­ences mem­bers were vis­i­bly appalled by the brash, explic­it nature of the film, Gilmore’s deci­sion was ulti­mate­ly vin­di­cat­ed by the crit­ics – Variety’s Todd McCarthy called it a show-off piece of film­mak­ing that will put debut writer-direc­tor Quentin Taran­ti­no on the map.”

The vio­lent, non-lin­ear sto­ry of a jew­el heist gone wrong changed the way inde­pen­dent films would be made from then on, but like a lot of land­mark works, the pub­lic at large were slow to accept it. Reser­voir Dogs opened on just 19 screens upon its ini­tial domes­tic release, before even­tu­al­ly expand­ing to 61 (as a point of com­par­i­son, Under Siege, a big hit at the time, played in over 2,000 cin­e­mas). The film’s mod­est release was cou­pled with the con­tro­ver­sy that had fol­lowed it since Sun­dance, although the fact that sev­er­al coun­tries called for it to be banned only added to the aura around its then 28-year-old maker.

Two men using a video camera on a movie set. One man wearing a white shirt and sun hat, the other man in an orange t-shirt.

The films that made Tarantino’s name were excit­ing, intri­cate capers that didn’t sound or look like any­thing else that was being released at the time. Com­bin­ing 70s cool with 90s self-aware­ness, Reser­voir Dogs and Pulp Fic­tion pushed bar­ri­ers in terms of what was per­mis­si­ble on film. We saw hit men engag­ing in small talk. We saw an almost roman­tic scene of drug abuse. We saw graph­ic break downs of Madon­na songs. These films – more so than any­thing the direc­tor has made since – became instant­ly icon­ic, pop cul­ture touch­stones in the own right.

For all the plau­dits Taran­ti­no has received, how­ev­er, the detrac­tors have remained dif­fi­cult to shake off. The Dai­ly Mail have repeat­ed­ly called for his films to be boy­cotted, while as recent­ly as 2015 he man­aged to upset the entire NYPD over com­ments he made at a ral­ly protest­ing police bru­tal­i­ty. Of course, Taran­ti­no has always main­tained some­thing of an anti-estab­lish­ment edge – the orig­i­nal the­atri­cal trail­er for Pulp Fic­tion opens by draw­ing atten­tion to its 1994 Palme d’Or tri­umph, before blast­ing holes in the words Cannes Film Fes­ti­val’. If peo­ple don’t like my movies, they don’t like my movies,” Taran­ti­no once said in an inter­view with Brett Eas­t­on Ellis, and if they don’t get it, it doesn’t matter.”

This mind­set is why Taran­ti­no is where he is today. A rebel out­lier turned unre­pen­tant goliath with­in the indus­try, his ear­ly work changed the face of inde­pen­dent cin­e­ma, far out­strip­ping any­thing those ear­ly head­line writ­ers could have imag­ined. In his most recent work, he con­tin­ues to tread his own path, telling the sto­ries that inter­est him regard­less of what’s en vogue at the time. He’s no longer dis­sect­ing Madon­na lyrics or McDonald’s seman­tics – today his films come with over­tures, road­show releas­es, and Ennio Mor­ri­cone scores. Where­as his ded­i­ca­tions at the begin­ning of the script for Reser­voir Dogs includ­ed then less­er-known cult stars such as John Woo, or revered mav­er­icks such as Jean-Luc Godard, he now makes the type of films he grew up with. Over time, the enfant ter­ri­ble who shook up the indus­try has become its most vocal traditionalist.

Group of people standing near a car at night.

That sen­ti­men­tal­i­ty is not lim­it­ed to his work. An ardent crit­ic of the dig­i­tal rev­o­lu­tion, he has joined oth­er famous names who fight for the preser­va­tion of shoot­ing and pro­ject­ing on film. It does noth­ing for me,” he told David Frost, I actu­al­ly feel gypped when I go to a movie and I realise it’s either been shot on dig­i­tal or pro­ject­ed in dig­i­tal… to me the mag­ic of movies is con­nect­ed to 35mm.” Tarantino’s pur­chase of an old Los Ange­les cin­e­ma, and the entire stock of the for­mer video store where he worked, shows a man more in tune with cinema’s ana­logue past than its dig­i­tal future.

Per­haps that tra­di­tion­al­ism is symp­to­matic of his over­all career plan, hav­ing stat­ed on numer­ous occa­sions his plan to retire after 10 films (he’s cur­rent­ly at num­ber eight). Despite only being 53, Taran­ti­no has always been mind­ful of lega­cy and where he stands along­side the artists he most admires. While it’s up for debate whether or not he’ll be able to match that ini­tial flush of suc­cess, his sub­se­quent films have always seemed to delight their intend­ed audi­ences – each new release a major cin­e­mat­ic event.

So what does the future hold? There have been sug­ges­tions from the man him­self that he may go on to write nov­els, or maybe even a tele­vi­sion series (although pre­sum­ably he won’t be buy­ing into the stream­ing boom any­time soon). My scripts are too long any­way,” he said at a recent San Diego Com­ic Con. I could just shoot every­thing I want­ed to and it could just go on and on and on.” Any­one famil­iar with such Taran­ti­no sound­bites will know that he is prone to chang­ing his mind, and he has admit­ted that if he didn’t feel ready to retire at 10 films, he may go on. Per­haps it’s fit­ting that a man who has made a career of view­ing things in a slight­ly dif­fer­ent light should keep us guess­ing for his final reel.

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