Loosely based on the 1992 novel 'Rum Punch' by Elmore Leonard, Jackie Brown is Quentin Tarantino's most accomplished film to date. The narrative is more linear than his previous feature, Pulp Fiction (1994), and the structure is tighter and better composed. Revolving around a gun dealer named Ordell Robbie (Samuel L. Jackson), it's a slick cops 'n' criminals tale packed with wit and intelligence. Most Tarantino films - even the ones that came after Jackie Brown - have a singularly unique voice, and although that sounds like a compliment it's actually a criticism. Because everybody in the film speaks with that voice, and there's no sense of character. They incessantly chit-chat, which isn't a problem in and of itself - I like that they do that, because it reflects reality - but what they talk about is what Tarantino wants to talk about. His characters talk very knowingly, as if they're rehearsed their dialogue, swearing and all, in front of a mirror for hours on end. Like A Virgin, Royale With Cheese, Superman... whatever, it's all eye-rollingly indulgent. Which is why Jackie Brown is so refreshing - because it has several unique voices, and none of them sound like their writer. They sound like people. People who plot, scheme, lie and murder. People with ambition and greed, but also intelligence and goodness. I would not call any of the characters in Jackie Brown evil, although some of them lack a moral compass. It rounds off what could be seen as Tarantino's Crime Trilogy, and what a finale it is...
There are three things Tarantino is famed for - writing; music; casting. I feel like I've covered the writing, but I'll add that I love how relaxed the conversation feels in Jackie Brown. Everyone's just chillin' out, hangin' beachside and getting up to no good. Jackson has rarely been cooler as Robbie, a stylish cat who knows how to take care of business ("when you absolutely, positively gotta kill every motherfucker in the room, accept no substitute"). It's a very laid back film which really takes its time to let conversations play out. It's not as sweary or bloody as Tarantino's two previous features, but is sunnier and makes great use of colour (the character-specific interiors represent each inhabitant perfectly). Every word in Jackie Brown is perfectly formulated, and the actors embrace them with relish.
The music is excellent, but also serves a narrative purpose in the film. One gets the sense in his previous features that Tarantino was just showing off his record collection. In Jackie Brown the Delfonics song 'Didn't I Blow Your Mind This Time' underscores the emerging relationship between Jackie (Pam Grier) and bail bondsman Max Cherry (Robert Forster). The main theme of the film is Bobby Womack's 'Across 110th Street', from the film of the same name (Shear, 1972), a famous blaxploitation film the likes of which Jackie Brown references. For once the music cues feel like they're coming from a genuine place to serve the story, especially a live version of Johnny Cash's 'Tennessee Stud', which finds the perfect note of sadness for the scene it underscores.
But the casting is key. Forster was Oscar-nominated for his role and it's by far his best performance, layered with kindness and humanity. He's a sympathetic character, really likable and recognizable as a human being. De Niro turns in an unusually comic performance as the over-the-hill and quite dim-witted criminal who is consumed by lust and greed as he tags along for the ride. Grier holds it all together and her scenes with the cops (Michael Keaton, Michael Bowen) provide some of the films highlights. And then there's Fonda herself...
In his review Roger Ebert said that her performance is "so good it's almost invisible; her character's lassitude and contempt coexist with the need to be high all the time." She's the perfect stoner chick; the male equivalent to Brad Pitt's Floyd in True Romance (Scott, 1993). Her piercing stares and biting sarcasm are the highlight of the film, but she establishes herself strongest with perhaps the most underwritten role. Tanned and beautifully blonde, she's kind of like a pot-brained femme fatale, leading De Niro's character into a dumb-as-nails scheme to steal the money that everyone wants a piece of. Her eyes have a vacant look, like she's been checked out of life for the past ten years, and she only gets up to take phone calls ("it's for you"), drink protein shakes or have sex. Forever lounging about, her life ambition is to watch TV and get high, and you get the impression that wouldn't change even if she had $1 million in her back pocket. But she's also a warm character. One with a significantly better past than a future - and she knows it. She's ordered around by Robbie, which she hates, but she takes his crap for the drugs she spends her days on. Memories of Japan adorn the walls, and this bikini-bound babe warrants our sympathy. Underneath the mocking cynicism she's a smart girl, just wasting away...
It's probably the best film Tarantino will ever make, and about as close to perfect as cinema gets. But don't take my word for it - sign off your computer, and get to re-watching this modern classic...
luv that gurl!
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