An assassin is shot at the altar by her ruthless employer, Bill, and other members of their assassination circle. But "The Bride" lives to plot her vengeance. Setting out for some payback, she make...
Kill Bill Vol. 1 slashes its way through sword wielding extras in Tarantino's trademark style. His ode to Japanese cinema, merging Western tropes with Eastern aesthetics. Blending stylised filters, utilising excessive spraying blood and embedding the art of Japanese animation. Tarantino directs the absolute heck out of this revenge thriller, temporarily acquiring the souls of Kurosawa and Miike to combine epic samurai showdowns with modern limb-slicing gore. Not to mention turning Thurman into the "Thurminator". Despite not being the greatest film in his illustrious filmography, it's definitely his most technically proficient. After being left for dead by a group of assassins, a bride seeks revenge by eliminating two of the five members after acquiring a legendary Hattori Hanzo katana.
Tarantino, for me, can come across as pretentious at the best of times. Divulging into his own self-indulgence more times than Jackson appears in his films. Don't get me wrong, he's no Malick, but it's a turn off rather than a turn on. Fortunately, his intent focus on the directorial flair as opposed to the ambitiously ostentatious dialogue found in the majority of his earlier films meant that Kill Bill was able to overcome his wearisome wit.
Immediately it kicks off with Thurman decimating a sub-urban house with nothing more than a few kicks, knife slashes and a cup of coffee. Tarantino setting the bar high with pleasing choreography, proving his versatility as a genre director. The ornate top-down tracking shots to showcase the set designs. The ingenious use of profoundly heightened volume of stock sound effects found in classic Japanese arts, especially the profound swinging of a sword. Swoosh woosh! Or the impalement of a blade through the chest, as if it came directly from 'Dragonball Z'. It's abrupt. It's harsh. It's Tarantino in a nutshell.
Then the narrative switches back and forth between the present time, the aftermath of the wedding and even further in the past with character backstory, presented in absolute stunning anime. The erratic narrative jumps do skew the momentum on multiple occasions. Although many will initially reject Ishii's backstory style, it compliments Tarantino's creative exploration into Asian cinema perfectly and even allows more bloodshed to spill off the screen. Limbs flying in every direction, heads imploding from bullets and Japanese steel piercing the hearts of innocents. A perfect chapter.
Chapter Four (atleast I think it was) dips the pacing with an overextended sequence at a sushi bar which unfortunately doesn't particularly highlight Thurman's acting range. But Tarantino brings it back into sixth gear with the inevitable Chapter Five that every viewer will claim to be their favourite segment of the volumes. And it's true. The showdown against the Crazy 88 is one of the greatest sequences in cinematic history. Commencing with a glorious one take walkthrough of the interior before issuing Thurman with an endless wave of subordinates to slash through. Beautiful. The perfect blend of two continental cinemas.
My only gripe is Tarantino's excessive over-stylisation choices to which he chose to shroud the onslaught in a monochromatic filter. It's better in colour, believe me. Atleast it concludes sensationally with a gorgeous duel with Ishii in a snow-filled garden, leaving the viewer to eagerly anticipate the sequel. Praise must be given, yet again, to the soundtrack. As with all of his films, the blend of songs and an original score is sublime. Actually, it's perfect. Complimenting every scene audaciously with excellence, particularly the slow-motion entrances.
And that's pretty much how one could describe this film. Excellent. It's not his best, but to allow Thurman, Hannah and even Liu to shine in a gory sword-wielding extravaganza, well it's something special. Authentically Western with the exuberance of Japanese cinema. An outstanding love letter by a craftsman at the peak of his power.
