Reservoir Dogs (1992)

Director: Quentin Tarantino

Cast: Harvey Keitel, Tim Roth, Chris Penn, Steve Buscemi

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure. You don’t live in the dorms for any stretch of the mid-2000s without taking in all of the Tarantino library.

Did I Like It: This is probably the Tarantino film I’m least inclined to re-visit, but I think I’ve spent more than a few years being unfair in that regard. My memory of the film is that it was always a bit simplistic. That isn’t necessarily a mark against the film. Given the resources Tarantino was working with, the film didn’t really have any hope of being more of a prototype for what Tarantino would eventually have in store for us.

The film is infinitely more complex than my memory gave it credit. Tarantino introduces himself to the movie-going world with the same kind of unhinged, borderline-bonkers plot construction he would later perfect* in Pulp Fiction (1994).

You may be like me and mostly remember the opening diner scene where the characters disassemble Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” or the torture scene complete with a needle drop of “Stuck in the Middle with You.” But the entire story keeps its secrets from us for as long as it wants to, and not a second longer, and only reveals them not when the flow of the ill-fated heist demands it, but when it will mean the most to us in our journey with the characters.

You might be like some of the critics of the age who are irretrievably turned off by the use of language and the violence. The immediate answer to those complaints is that you’re likely to have a devil of a time with the rest of Tarantino’s films, but I would add on to say that every line of dialogue is built to reveal character, even when those characters are helplessly awful. As far as the violence is concerned, I suppose I understand the complaints about violence in Tarantino’s films, but whereas light PG-13 depict violence as bloodless, barely notable events, it is difficult to say that Tarantino treats his violence blithely. Every drop of blood is bled from wounds that hurt, and that means more than finding a character amidst a maelstrom of bullets and blades only to come out with a scratch.

*And subsequently abandon, It’s a little disappointing that Tarantino never really continued his experiments with non-linear narratives, but then one supposes that if you start experimenting, and then perfect it in the next outing, are there really any experiments left to do?

Planet of the Apes (2001)

Director: Tim Burton

Cast: Mark Wahlberg, Tim Roth, Helena Bonham Carter, Michael Clarke Duncan

Have I Seen It Before: Yes. For the life of me, I can’t remember if I saw it in theaters, but I’m almost certain I would have. I do remember that the DVD had a diagram that tried to make sense out of the time warp-y qualities of the plot… And you can imagine how helpful it might have been.

Did I Like It: I’ve always thought of the film as an extremely average exercise, punctuated by an unnervingly confusing ending.

Twenty-plus years later, and nothing has really changed. If there’s a movie where it was more clear that Burton showed up to call “action!” and “cut!” for the money alone, then it would probably be <Batman (1989)>. That’s a lie. At least Batman had some clowns in it and a sense of art and the artistic.

I can’t help but think of what this film could have been during the many years it spent languishing in development hell. For a minute, there was a version in the 90s starring Schwarzenegger and directed by Cameron. If that doesn’t make you feel like you were robbed, then I really don’t know what to do with you.

It’s not as if there is nothing of value in the movie. It sports one of the last great (yes, I did say that) Danny Elfman scores. Also, while the apes makeup is a quantum leap forward from the days of Roddy McDowall*, the individual ape performances—especially from Roth, Bonham Carter, and Paul Giamatti—allow for a lot more ape-like behavior out of the characters than before.

If only they had inhabited a story worth watching, or for that mater, worth understanding. The deck was stacked against the film as it felt the need to match the awe-inspiring quality of <the original’s> conclusion. I can’t imagine that this was what anyone—filmmaker or viewer alike—wanted. Even now, years later, I try to make sense of just what is happening in this film’s final minutes. There are a few seconds where I almost get there, and then it slips away. And if the film which preceded it, I might feel the need to keep trying to work it ll out.

*As I wrap up my reviews of the Apes films, I realize I may be afforded relatively few opportunities to refer back to Roddy MacDowall, which always lends itself to this strangely foundational memory. My parents insisted McDowall was the voice of C-3PO in the Star Wars films. I was correct in my insistence that it was in fact Anthony Daniels who played the robot. I even showed them the end credits of one of the movies on VHS. They still insist that Roddy McDowall was in Star Wars, and by that logic was still appearing in Star Wars films several decades after his death.