“Grindhouse,” reviewed by Joanna Langfield
Comparing Robert Rodriquez’s “Planet Terror” and Quentin Tarantino’s “Deathproof” chapters in this full-throttle salute to the exploitation films of the 1960s and 70s is kind of like matching up American Idol’s Sanjaya and Melinda: both ambitious entertainers, but one clearly light years ahead of the other. In this case, the uneven zombie flick suffers, especially held up against Tarantino’s slick, sleek, pedal to the metal thriller. Kurt Russell is slyly hilarious as Stuntman Mike, the initially good natured old guy, meeting up with quite the bevy of babes in an Austin bar. With this film, as he has done with so many others, Quentin offers up another step toward equal opportunity for women in film. These aren’t girls sitting around sipping wine and kvetching about their boyfriends though; as he did with Kill Bill
and Jackie Brown, Tarantino makes his heroines here gutsy and gritty. And by casting real life stuntwoman Zoe Bell as herself, he firmly offers up another step
for Hollywood womankind. Appropriately for the genre, these girls are sexy, smart and, when pushed, pissed off. In between both the feature films, several “coming
attractions” are showcased. Clever and very much to the point, they, along
with a few eewey looking ads for local restaurants, package up to make
Grindhouse, in total, a hoot.