The exploitation movie – that branch of cheap and violent movies that includes Spaghetti Westerns, Kung Fu, zombie horrors and many other subgenres – has rarely run to epics. These were bottom-line products, made at low cost for (supposedly) unsophisticated audiences, and usually clocked in around the 80 minutes mark. Grand, overarching themes were rarely explored, and the main goal for the filmmakers was generally a high body count and maybe a bit of sex. With Kill Bill however Quentin Tarantino creates a grand, sweeping homage, the exploitation movie to end all exploitation movies, a two-part meditation on the very nature of revenge and killing.
As with its predecessor, Volume 2 is a patchwork of references to Tarantino's favourite pictures. This time round he is, if anything, even more flagrant in his referentialism. The flashback at the start of the picture features some rhythmic cross-cutting between close-ups like one of Sergio Leone's early features (notable exceptions as exploitation epics). Then there's a Kung Fu segment which mimics not only the clichés of Hong Kong cinema but also the style of humour and overused zoom lens. Is it theft? Not really. It's channelling the influences in the way one might reshape Romeo and Juliet or La Dame aux Camelias into some other work.
Tarantino doesn't just borrow the motifs and camera-work of his cinematic forebears, he also encourages the eerie, taciturn acting that characterised Leone's pictures. Uma Thurman's range broadens even more here. It's amazing the way she is able to portray Kiddo as a tough fighter while still retaining her sensitivity. David Carradine is at his best here in the title role, a model of seductive evil, credible as both the killer and the kind lover and father.
And really these two dual-natured performances characterise something that is fundamental to Kill Bill. It's a movie about killing, and one that does not shy away from the sensationalist violence of the exploitation flick, but it is also a movie with a lot of heart and humanity. With volume 2 it becomes clear why volume 1 began with the business over Vernita Green's daughter. It becomes clear why Bill cancelled the hospital hit on Beatrix at the last minute. This is a movie about love as much as hate. Kill Bill is an emotionally mature and intelligent work, while still having that delightful playfulness and comic book mythology. A sincere and worthy tribute to a tawdry yet beloved part of cinematic history.
As with its predecessor, Volume 2 is a patchwork of references to Tarantino's favourite pictures. This time round he is, if anything, even more flagrant in his referentialism. The flashback at the start of the picture features some rhythmic cross-cutting between close-ups like one of Sergio Leone's early features (notable exceptions as exploitation epics). Then there's a Kung Fu segment which mimics not only the clichés of Hong Kong cinema but also the style of humour and overused zoom lens. Is it theft? Not really. It's channelling the influences in the way one might reshape Romeo and Juliet or La Dame aux Camelias into some other work.
Tarantino doesn't just borrow the motifs and camera-work of his cinematic forebears, he also encourages the eerie, taciturn acting that characterised Leone's pictures. Uma Thurman's range broadens even more here. It's amazing the way she is able to portray Kiddo as a tough fighter while still retaining her sensitivity. David Carradine is at his best here in the title role, a model of seductive evil, credible as both the killer and the kind lover and father.
And really these two dual-natured performances characterise something that is fundamental to Kill Bill. It's a movie about killing, and one that does not shy away from the sensationalist violence of the exploitation flick, but it is also a movie with a lot of heart and humanity. With volume 2 it becomes clear why volume 1 began with the business over Vernita Green's daughter. It becomes clear why Bill cancelled the hospital hit on Beatrix at the last minute. This is a movie about love as much as hate. Kill Bill is an emotionally mature and intelligent work, while still having that delightful playfulness and comic book mythology. A sincere and worthy tribute to a tawdry yet beloved part of cinematic history.