#129 Pulp Fiction (Tarantino) at CineLux Capitola
Outrage a cinephile in five words: I've never seen Pulp Fiction.
It's true. Somehow I managed to miss the indie blockbuster of the 90s, the one that transformed cinema by popularizing post-modern storytelling. So when a local theatre announced a showing as part of their "art house" series, both my husband and best friend jumped at the chance to watch me watch it for the first time.
Because of this film's place in the cultural zeitgeist, I was aware it included: whatever a "gimp suit" is, a famous dance sequence, a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart, uncomfortable use of the n-word, and some references to "tasty burgers." But I didn't know anything about the theme, plot, or characters.
I debated what to write this blog post about. The nonlinear plot. The dialogue that became part of pop culture. The extreme and absurd violence.
But what stuck with me and delighted me most was the relationship (and constant bickering) of Jules and Vincent. They don’t just share screen time, they relate to each other in a way that feels oddly intimate for two hitmen. They squabble about fast food, debate the ethics of foot massages, and stumble through existential crises between jobs. Surprisingly, Pulp Fiction (1993) is deeply interested in people. Not heroes. Not even antiheroes, really. Just flawed and ridiculous people. And that, for me, is the magic trick of the whole film.
So now I've finally seen Pulp Fiction. And I get it.
Fun fact: The film has no score, just perfectly selected needle drops.