I came away from Pulp Fiction (1994) with the same feeling as all other Quintin Tarantino films. I recognize the awesome craftsmanship and talent, but I don't know if I like them. I don't know if they're good.

A friend of mine questioned Pulp Fiction being on the AFI Top 100, and I pointed out that a top film might not be a great film, but instead one that breaks new ground. I suspect Pulp Fiction belongs in this category. If there's greatness in this movie, it's in the tremendous writing. The dialog and construction spark like muzzle flashes. The humor is so dark as to be dipped in molasses. And the stars are expected to act, not just show off their glitter. There are no good people here, and the situations are so extreme as to be comical yet horrific--Tarantino's style. It's as if he absolutely believes that watching violence in movies doesn't hurt anyone, and so merrily combines the visual gusto of Kurosawa with the graphical charms of Romero.

So, what about that "new ground" I was talking about? Well, Mr. Tarantino takes his four or five short, interrelated subjects, chops them up in space and time, then recombines them in a collage wedding dress that nicely enhances the bride's features, yet keeps you wondering whether plaid and fur are supposed to go next to each other. Really, the editing is impressive to my eyes. It's comic book style in crazyland.

Pulp Fiction should only be watched by well-adjusted people.

Samuel L. Jackson and John Travolta. Their conversations are stunning, and Jackson is amazing. He delivers his lines seamlessly.

Many of the movie's shots place the actor in the left or right third of the frame. Here's the exquisite Uma Thurman.

An utterly convincing Ving Rhames, whose character gets better than he deserves.

Bruce Willis, whose character probably gets exactly what he deserves!

The director, in a cameo. Tarantino is an engaging actor who can show exactly how he wants his characters to behave.

Making it look easy is Harvey Keitel. I'll bet his character--a minor one--is very popular among fans.

Fans may be disappointed that I include no boxing screen captures from Raging Bull (1980). That's partly because I'm drawn to the characters more than the fights, and partly because stills won't capture those superb sequences.

Robert De Niro shows again his tremendous acting, as he plays boxer Jake La Motta over a period of twenty-three years and sixty pounds. You read that right. De Niro gained sixty pounds to play the older La Motta. According to the IMDB trivia, De Niro (a Method actor who heavily researches and lives his roles), trained extensively and even entered three Brooklyn boxing matches. He won two of them.

This is an elegant, sad, graceful movie. The music, by 19th century composer Pietro Mascagni, exactly fits the operatic mood. This isn't a boxing movie. It's a piece of art where the anti-hero happens to be a boxer.

Robert De Niro, as the heavy, middle aged La Motta.

And, as the lean, savage La Motta.

Cathy Moriarty. In the film, the stunning 20-year-old actress is first introduced as being a 15-year-old girl.

De Niro

Great work from Joe Pesci

Let me tell you want I didn't expect in The Deer Hunter (1978). I didn't expect three hours of character development. After the first hour I thought, "Wow, an hour of character development before the 'story' kicks in." Nope. The entire movie is about the characters, and director Michael Cimino somehow manages to keep the pacing alive throughout, holding my attention from the first frame to the last. (Sadly, Cimino's next film, Heaven's Gate was a truly huge disaster--it caused United Artists to file bankruptcy--, and his career has never lived up to this movie.)

One of the stars is Robert De Niro, only a couple of years after Taxi Driver. He shows that he's a true actor, by which I mean someone who can become another person. I'm not against stars who seem to play the same character over and over. But De Niro is a great actor. (Watch The King of Comedy followed by The Mission sometime.)

The other three stars I was familiar with were the intense John Savage, the superb Christopher Walken, and the tremendous, lovely Meryl Streep in only her fourth film. I also really liked the character played by George Dzundza.

The Deer Hunter can't in any way be called a happy movie. Its whole point is how regular people get destroyed by wars that they didn't initiate, and, in the case of Vietnam, were forced to fight in. But it's the normalcy of the characters that's compelling. De Niro's efforts on the part of his friends aren't due to special nobility, but instead to a kind of character evident in many people. What happens to all of them doesn't reveal them as lesser or greater humans. It reveals them as simply humans who have done and seen things no human should.

Let's see if I get this correct. But first, who do you recognize? (sorry, it's not the best screen capture).
Starting from the left: John Cazale, who died soon after filming, Robert De Niro, John Savage (behind the bar), an extra, Chuck Aspegren, and Christopher Walken.

Meryl Streep and Christopher Walken. Notice how the photo of De Niro is framed next to Walken, foreshadowing later film events.

Like a Rembrandt painting, Robert De Niro.

The exquisite Meryl Streep, who's performance makes acting look far easier than it is.

John Savage nailed his role.

Stunning.