Film Review: 'Pulp Fiction'

There is probably little point in reading about 'Pulp Fiction', because you've probably seen it. There is probably little point in me writing a positive review, because you probably like it and have probably seen a dozen positive reviews. But then again, there is, on the surface of it, little point in 'Pulp Fiction'. Well, there is a point in it's existence - to entertain, upon which it delivers more than many filmmakers could dream of. And that's another point - a showcase of Quentin Tarantino's skills as a director, a writer (co-written by Roger Avary), and an actor (that last point is debatable). But really, the point of 'Pulp Fiction' is that there is little point. Things just happen. There is a plot, but it takes up a very small running time. Why waste time on a plot when you've cooked up some of cinema's finest characters, most quotable dialogue, and iconic scenes that will be instantly recognisable to even those who haven't seen the film?

So yes, most of the two and a half hour running time is taken up by characters simply talking. Not always about anything essential to the plot (although it could be argued that the banter is the plot). Talking about the ethics of giving foot massages, how the metric system affects the names of popular burgers, religious philosophies, awkward silences. Near enough the random bullshit that good friends chat about. A damn sight wittier, sure, but it's the inanity of the conversations that gives this film a unique, free-wheeling charm, which many filmmakers have attempted to emulate, but mostly failed. Hell, even Tarantino has failed at times (see 'Death Proof'). The redundant conversation isn't just there to amuse though - it also builds tension at vital points. Take the classic 'Big Kahuna Burger' scene, for example. We are constantly laughing at Samuel L. Jackson's frenzied musings, but we also know something terrible is happening, and that something worse is going to happen. Not that this is a hugely disturbing film, even at it's most violent the movie has such a rich vein in jet-black humour that the extremist absurdity of it all will keep you laughing, even though you know you shouldn't be. 'Pulp Fiction' is, essentially, a comedy first and a crime thriller second.

Characters come and go, most of them hugely memorable, events happen because people are at the wrong place at the wrong time, decisions are made that are so irrational that an element of truth emerges. Kind of like real life. The film works on a level of hyperreality, the rambling narrative moves along at it's own 'two people shooting the shit' pace, yet the events are amped up to a considerably bizarre degree. Regardless, while this works brilliantly for what it is, the lack of a real meaty plot puts this below some of Tarantino's other films, in my opinion, namely 'Jackie Brown' and 'Inglourious Basterds'. However, that doesn't make this not Quentin Tarantino's "masterpiece". 'Pulp Fiction' gave the comedy genre, the crime thriller genre, and even cinema as a medium to an extent, a huge shot in the arm. There was nothing like it at the time (apparently, I was only six), and to this day it retains it's status as an utterly unique, completely compelling, and ferociously funny classic.

5/5

P.S. There was ABSOLUTELY no point in that use of alliteration. But there's very little point to most things in life. Which is oddly comforting. Might as well live life as well as we can while we're here. This has nothing to do with the film, just a completely disconnected stream-of-consciousness. But, maybe it does have something to do with the film. Perhaps the point of 'Pulp Fiction's pointlessness is that real-life events are largely pointless too. Most pointless post-script ever.