Kill Bill

In a word: awesome. However, for the sake of whatever decorum reigns over these pages, allow me to pontificate for eight hundred or so more. "Kill Bill Vol. 1," though only Quentin Tarantino's fourth film, is inevitably destined to become a cult classic.

The setup? A deadly female assassin (Uma Thurman), who was brutally betrayed by her close associates four years ago, wakes up from a coma – disoriented but determined to exact her revenge. The targets are the former members of the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad (Michael Madsen, Daryl Hannah, Vivica A. Fox, and Lucy Liu) as well as their mysterious leader 'Bill' (David Carradine).

"Kill Bill" uses the same narrative structure of "Pulp Fiction:" instead of a linear sequence of scenes, the movie presents an out-of-order collection of 'chapters.' Gradually, a nuanced and compelling picture is painted of the 'Kill-Bill-universe' as we learn the histories, abilities, and psychologies of the various characters.

This type of narrative structure, which succeeded so spectacularly in "Pulp Fiction," is geared more towards communicating a certain 'cinematic universe' — with this phrase I intend to encompass the film's informal cosmology, the critical values and concerns of its characters, and the common mode of action and decision — than towards simply 'telling a story.'

This task must be achieved via scripting, dramaturgy, soundtrack selection, cinematography, and, the director's skill of skills – compositional editing. Although superficially it may appear that a film depicts its action objectively (like a documentary), every element is so consciously particularized that in fact the cinematic 'viewing' constitutes a sort of subjective Weltanschauung – in this case of the 'Kill-Bill-universe' Tarantino has created for us.

In the classic Tarantino film "Pulp Fiction" (which the American Film Association voted among the 100 greatest films of the century), Mia, the sexy and dangerous wife of gangster Marsellus Wallace, tells Vincent Vega about Fox Force Five, a failed TV show in whose pilot she starred. The premise of the show — that five attractive and racially diverse women had been contracted as super-cool secret agents — is suspiciously close to the background of "Kill Bill." This self-referential element (which recurs throughout the movie) is sure to please Tarantino fans.

If there's one thing this movie has, it's style. People move, talk, and even fight with style. Dozens of lines of dialogue lend themselves to quotation, and the movie is full of the delicate and delightful touches that are sure to stick with the viewer. For instance, in one scene, a character casually pours a bowl of cereal from a box branded "Kaboom Cereal" only later to fire a gun hidden in the box. The moment is quite memorable. Indeed, style is the key attribute that marked "Pulp Fiction," that was essential to its success, that helped define Samuel L. Jackson's cinematic persona, and that permanently inscribed "Pulp Fiction" within our collective cultural psyche.

"Kill Bill" is a complex amalgam of genre and cliché – Westerns, gangster flicks, Hong-Kong blood operas, anime, "Charlie's Angeles" type films – all these genres have clearly influenced "Kill Bill." These thematic tenors mingle, clash, and harmonize to create a new polyphony, a genre which in its bloom transcends the workmanlike process of 'amalgamation' and can only truly be defined by itself. I write, of course, of the Tarantino-esque. Tarantino upholds his legacy in this movie, and perhaps this is the greatest and most fitting statement that can be made.

Revenge: This idea shapes and informs the entire movie. Revenge is what drives Thurman — to kill is her mission, her goal, and her very reason for continuing to be. Thurman is determined to undo her betrayers as she was metaphorically and literally undone by them (they killed her child, husband, etc.). This dark atmosphere of negativity pervades the movie.

"Kill Bill," then, belongs to the cinematic analogue to the literary category of the Revenge Tragedy. Revenge Tragedies, typically set into motion by a horrible crime, usually involve the protagonist resorting to a slew of diabolical tricks before getting his or her revenge. In the end, the protagonist either has an epiphany which transcends the revenge-paradigm (e.g.: "Hamlet") or slips permanently into a bloody nihilistic madness (e.g.: "The Spanish Tragedy").

Without a doubt, the movie is breathtakingly violent. Because I was seated in the very first row, the closeness of the screen intensified the violence for me (as well as giving me a crick in the neck). However, the violence of "Kill Bill" is so heavily stylized as to render it harmless. By making it seem unreal and even comical¸ the movie takes the crunch from the punch, the slash from the stroke — it's all motion, all form, all surface. In one scene, Thurman, having defeated a veritable army of ninjas, permits the survivors to exit — minus their limbs severed in the preceding fight. "They belong to me now," she says with a straight face. A pathetic horde of amputees slogs on hands and knees over pools of blood amid a chorus of groans. The ultraviolence of the scene is so over-the-top that its very violence is lost in its absurdity. In sum, it's gorey — but in a clever way.

"Kill Bill Vol. 2," the second and final installment of this story, will be released in a few months.