Reservoir Dogs (2003, DVD)

MY REVIEW OF THE MOVIE PROPER

I remember the first time I saw "Reservoir Dogs". About a dozen of us packed into a buddy's living room. We were all under 18 back then, and couldn't legally get a copy of the video, but buddy managed to get his greasy little hands on a second- or third-generation bootleg copy. So he popped that sucker into the VCR, and we all shuddered in anticipation of what we were about to see. It felt like we were dealing in contraband, or selling moonshine, or jaywalking. Anyway, it felt dangerous. We had all heard so much about the movie, and couldn't wait for the cussing and killing and capering, and, of course, were all wet with anticipation of the already-legendary "ear" scene.

Needless to say, despite the grainy picture and near-whispered audio, the movie did not disappoint.

I've seen "Reservoir Dogs" dozens of times since that first adolescent encounter. I even own the newly released DVD version. And I've got to say, that every time I watch it, I still notice something new to love about it. So, for a movie that's been reviewed and criticized and picked apart and bandied back and forth for some ten year now, that is the tact I will take with this review. I'll subtitle it: "Cool Things I Noticed After Viewing RESERVOIR DOGS For The Umpteenth Time".

A quick plot summary, if you please: Joe Cabot assembles a gang to steal some diamonds. He gives them rainbow aliases (Mr. Pink, Mr. White, Mr. Blonde, etc.) and monochromatic suits, and sets them on their way. Only nothing goes to plan, blood is shed, and everyone must meet back at the hideout for further instructions. Someone gets the bright idea that a rat has gotten into their litter box, and paranoia runs rampant. Who is the rat? Who will survive? Who has the diamonds? Of course, none of this comes at you in any conventional way; time folds back and forth on itself, and the movie can only be completely understood once the end credits rolled, and the audience can spend some time thinking about what really just happened.

The film opens with a scene that would better be described as a calling card, so perfectly does it capture the Tarantino aesthetic. Eight men sit around a table in a cheap little diner. Most are dressed in black suits and black ties, and all appear to be enjoying the last remnants of an epic breakfast. A whiny, nasally voice is heard, talking in mid-thought. It is a voice that in the ten years since has become familiar to these ears, but upon first seeing the film wasn't recognizable as belonging to the writer/director himself. Madonna's song "Like a Virgin" is deconstructed, and given a particularly coarse new meaning. The camera, a shy little boy, hovers around the outside of the table, only rarely getting a good clean shot of the men talking. The conversation continues, touching on such varied subjects as the identity of an anonymous name found in an old address book, the identity of the killer in the Vicki Lawrence song "The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia", and the righteousness of tipping your waitress. It's a seven-and-a-half minute long scene, jam-packed with conversation, which is meant to introduce the audience to the principle characters. But it never panders to conventional exposition, instead allowing the conversation to carry the weight of characterization. You may not know what these men do by the end of the scene, but you have a very good idea of who they are. And you get the distinct impression that violence is about to rain down.

And then, the famous walk. Slow motion, cool as ice, iconic from the first moment you see it (trivia: Tarantino's production company uses the walk as its logo, so important is the image to the director). But it's a rather subversive shot that completely confounds the audience's expectations. It looks like the boys are heading into battle, like Wyatt Earp and his men strolling confidantly into the OK Corral. But actually, they're just a bunch of guys heading back to their cars after a hearty breakfast!

So in a conventional movie, what would the next scene be? Well, chronologically, the next thing to happen is the diamond heist. So, that's what we see, right? Wrong! Tarantino, due to a perverse need to screw with his audience, or quite possibly due to budgetary concerns, skips the heist scene altogether. He heads straight for the aftermath. Imagine pitching this idea to a Hollywood producer today: "I want to make a movie about a diamond heist gone wrong but I'm not going to show the heist itself." "Not show the big action scene!" says the incredulous producer. "Get out of my office, you!"

Said producer would probably be satisfied with the next part of the pitch, however. "I'm going to cut off a cop's ear," says our plucky director. "Ah! Gore! I like it," says the studio head. Which leads me into a discussion of the much-vaunted torture scene. It's the one thing that everyone who saw "Reservoir Dogs" when it first came out in 1992 couldn t stop talking about. The part that impresses me about this scene, to this day still, is not the fact that Tarantino chooses to cut away while the deed is being done (Notice, when he does this, the sign above the door in the background: "WATCH YOUR HEAD." Har-har), but a moment before and a moment right after that are equally as powerful. Overshadowed by the gore, let me give them their due now.

Having already tied him to a chair, Mr. Blonde decides to further inflict torture on the poor cop he kidnapped from the crime scene. So he grabs a roll of duct tape off of a table, rips off a piece a couple of feet wide, taunts the cop with some malicious but gentle whispering, and then applies the tape to the cop's mouth. Admiring his handiwork, he quickly whips out a pistol and points it at the cop. Unable to scream, the man in the chair writhes uncontrollably, ineffectually trying to get out of the way of the gunfire. Mr. Blonde, cool as a cucumber, remains statue still, with a vicious look on his face, while this is going on. Slowly, however, he begins to grin. Then chuckle. Then laugh out loud. It is a typical moment in Tarantino's oeuvre: confront the audience with the horrors, then let them off the hook with a joke. They feel safe, so you confront them with the horrors again. It does wonders in keeping an audience on their toes.

***Definite spoiler ahead proceed to next set of asterisks if you haven't seen the movie yet.

Right after the ear scene, Mr. Blonde decides to finish the job. So he grabs a can of gasoline from the car, and begins to douse the now-disfigured cop. He lights a Zippo, asks for final words, and then BANG! BANG! BANG! A quick cut shows Mr. Orange, bathed in blood and previously believed to be unconscious, now emptying his gun into Mr. Blonde's chest. The camera slowly pans around through a 180-degree field of vision -- at one point the audience is even in the line of fire -- eventually stopping when the front door comes back into view, as we see Mr. Blonde slumping over, dead. It's a stylish camera move, like the circumnavigation that accompanied the opening diner scene, which frames a surprising moment

***Spoiler finished continue reading

A bit about the actors, now.

There's a scene where Harvey Keitel (he's mostly good as Mr. White; more on this later) and Steve Buscemi (Mr. Pink) talk through the events of the heist. After not really making any headway, Mr. Pink gets up from his chair and asks, "Where's the commode in this dungeon? I've got to take a squirt." It's not my favourite line in the film, but it is the one that best points to the symbiosis between actor and script. It's a line that's utterly self-conscious; "Where's the bathroom in this warehouse? I've got to pee," would have conveyed the same information. But Tarantino is a writer with style. Every word is precise and cool and fresh. This line exemplifies that notion more than any other. Still, next time you're in the same predicament, try saying the line. You'll get laughed to kingdom come if you do. But the line just rolls off of Steve Buscemi's lips like it was the most natural thing in the world to say. I don't think the actors here get enough credit for their prodigious work. Sure, they're all wicked cool, but they are also playing great scenes, and playing them great. Tim Roth, whose role has many levels of identity, is probably most praised, but Keitel, and Buscemi, and Madsen, and Penn, and Tierney (and don't forget the deadpan wonder that is the voice-only Steven Wright) are all wonderful.

In my review of "The Godfather" (http://www.epinions.com/content_73885060740), I tried to point out how Sonny's missed punch was the exception that proved the rule; the rule being that "The Godfather" is a perfect movie. Well, I have found a similar moment here, that helps plead my case regarding the acting in "Reservoir Dogs". When Mr. White first meets Joe in his office, he's told the reason why the diamonds will be so ripe for the pickings. He makes a quick quip. And then the laugh. Maybe the editor is at fault (Sally Menke, who otherwise does an outstanding job), but there's at least a second-and-a-half lag between joke and laugh. And what a laugh! Tierney and Keitel both deliver atrociously fake screen laughs. I remember the first time I saw it, the moment jarred me from my rapt attention, distracted me from the rest of the scene, and nearly ruined the movie. But I've calmed down now, and can glide over "the laugh" with ease, and appreciate the perfect acting in the rest of the movie.

Okay, I'm going to wrap this up now. It's getting much too long anyway.

"Reservoir Dogs" is the kind of movie that's rich enough that, if I were to watch it a year from now, I would have to write a totally different review than the one you've just read (that one might not be as rambling). The passion, and thrill of it all would still be there, but my take on the movie would probably be much different. Which, to me, is the mark of greatness: To be able to continually provide surprises and pleasures for your audience, even though they may have seen the film a dozen times.

[By the way, of all the explanations for the film's title, which I won't get into here, my favourite is this: "Reservoir Dogs" = "Dammed Sons of Bitches".]


MY REVIEW OF THE 10TH ANNIVERSARY SPECIAL LIMITED EDITION DVD

Once you slip off the front cover (which, by the way comes in an assortment of five different colours; I chose the Mr. Pink edition, in case you're curious) you'll find inside probably the most comprehensive assortment of DVD features I've ever run across. The running time of the features dwarfs the running time of the movie.

Disc 1 features the widescreen edition of the movie. I'd never seen the film before in a format that wasn't a grainy VHS tape, so seeing it in all its digital glory was a real treat. The black and white suits contrast nicely with all the glowing red blood.

The audio commentary track that accompanies the film is informative, often times amusing, but overall a big disappointment. It features commentary by producers Lawrence Bender, Richard Gladstein, and Monte Hellman, director of photography Andrzej Sekula, editor Sally Menke, actors Tim Roth, Chris Penn, Michael Madsen, and Kurt Baltz, and writer/director Quentin Tarantino. The disappointing thing is that Tarantino, who probably has enough interesting things to say to fill three commentary tracks on his own, doesn't pipe up until the film's 19th minute. When he does, sporadically, it's always riveting. Sekula, whose accent and grasp of the English language make him the most unlikely choice for a voice over, actually does most of the talking here. If "Reservoir Dogs" was a cinematography-heavy film, like a true black and white film noir is, then Sekula's participation would be necessary. But it isn't. And his comments, which tend to ramble on, are redundant.

Also found on the first disc are a collection of interviews, filmed specifically for this DVD edition, with most of the on-camera principles. Penn looks puffy and red-nosed, as his interview, on a library-looking set, takes place in the back of a truck(!). Baltz is insightful and amusing, but a little too serious, for a guy whose character was basically just a device (he's the earless cop). Madsen is irreverent, stylish, and still looking every bit like Mr. Blonde. He and Baltz tell conflicting versions of the same story, but each with an amusing cheekiness. Bender's interview is intercut with shots of his film cameo (the running cop chasing Mr. Pink). Roth's interview, a terribly funny and typically witty British bit, is intercut with shots of "The Reservoir Dogs Synchronized Swimmers" (I am not making this up). Tarantino's interview ("A Tale of Tarantino") features mock-reverential title cards ("In that video store was a boy "), heavenly flutes, and clouds. All the interviews have their own distinct video style that either befit or mock the interview. It's a great little section.

Disc 1 also features some great deleted scenes, including a background check scene on one of the thieves, another scene on the roof with the black undercover cop, Messrs. Pink, White, and Nice Guy Eddie driving the hot cars away, and two alternate takes on the ear scene, which prove that Tarantino chose the right one in the end.

Disc 2 features the full screen movie, and a boatload of extras that will have you patrolling through the DVD for hours and hours.

First up is the Critics' Commentary. Three critics dissect certain aspects of the movie, while clips from the film play in the background. Amy Taubin, from Film Comment, does a 23-minute analysis on Mr. Orange as a character and Tim Roth's acting. She makes some interesting points about how the film is about the white man's last privilege: destroying each other. Peter Travers from Rolling Stone Magazine gets 29 minutes to talk about the way Tarantino uses pop culture references, including music, to create new takes on standard characters. Emmanuel Levy, author of "Cinema of Outsiders: The Rise of American Independent Film", like Sekula, has a tough accent to wade through (from his mouth, it sounds like "Rezema Dodds" starred the great Russian actor, "Timerov"). But in his 34-minute track he wisely analyzes the structure, compares the characters to "Glengarry Glen Ross", and has some good stuff about the father/son relationships in the film.

The content of the K-Billy Radio section is specifically left as a surprise on the DVD cover, so I'll not ruin what you'll find here either. Some of it is a tad too long, but most is quite thrilling (especially the last button you'll watch and laugh, I guarantee it).

The Class of '92 section runs through the filmmakers who debuted at the 1992 Sundance Film Festival. It features interviews and profiles on Alex Rockwell ("In The Soup"), Chris Munch ("The Hours and Times"), Katt Shae ("Poison Ivy"), Tom Kalin ("Swoon"), and Tarantino himself. Kudos to whoever decided to share the glory, by shedding some light on these less-popular but critically acclaimed directors. There's also a neat little Sundance Institute Filmmaker's Lab section, which shows videotaped workshopped scenes from "Reservoir Dogs". Here, with an unknown actor as Joe and Buscemi as Mr. White, they finally get "the laugh" right.

The Tributes and Dedications section is divided into two parts. The Dedications section features Tarantino explicating the front page of his script, which features dedications to about a dozen of his cinema heroes. Most intriguing insight: Timothy Carey, a Kubrick regular, was in the running to play Joe. Just imagine! There's also a lengthy piece on the recently deceased Lawrence Tierney. Its centrepiece is a hilarious story told by Chris Penn, which not only captures Tierney's combustible character in a nutshell, but also on its own makes the price of the DVD worthwhile. Then we get a short video of driving around in a car with Eddie Bunker, as he gives a tour of his L.A. criminal history. The Tributes section features nice nods to Monte Hellman, Jack Hill (who directed "Coffy" and "Foxy Brown"; wouldn't this have been more at home on the "Jackie Brown" DVD?), Pam Grier, and Roger Corman. Again, kudos to Tarantino for spreading the love around.

The Film Noir Web begins with a 10-minute introduction on the history of the genre, then segues into era-by-era profiles on its leading figures: Kubrick and Jim Thompson in the 1950s for "The Killing, John Boorman in the 1960s for "Point Blank", Mike Hodges in the 1970s for "Get Carter", and Stephen Frears in the 1980s for "The Hit" and "The Grifters". The Noir Files is a text only section, featuring dozens of documents on Books & Films, Writers & Directors, and Characters & Actors who thrived in the genre. Anyone with a term paper due on film noir could do some nice one stop shopping here for research.

The rest of the DVD features a couple of throwaway videos. One on the men who created the "Reservoir Dogs" action figures, one which follows location scout Billy Fox called Securing The Shot, and finally a quick "Reservoir Dogs" Style Guide.

While it has trouble staying on subject, the "Reservoir Dogs 10th Anniversary Special Limited Edition DVD" has enough features jam-packed into its two discs to appease even the most die hard fans of the movie. I know I was.