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Quentin
Tarantino's "Pulp Fiction" is the quintessential example of great movie
making, assorted using various constructive techniques that elevate the film to
the highest possible level, stretching the boundaries and pushing upwards. Like
all great directors, Q.T. lets the film and its subsidiaries stand on their own.
A lesser director might employ cheap gimmicks and plot devices to move the story
onwards at a brisk pace, but "Pulp Fiction" is a dark action, comedy,
and/or drama that clocks in at two hours and thirty-four minutes. And not a single
minute is wasted on material we think could have been shortened or cut. It's one
of those rare motion pictures that leaves you wanting more, which only welcomes
another immediate viewing to let everything sink in a second, third, or even fourth
time.
There are essentially three stories in "Pulp Fiction,"
intertwined between one another. It opens with Honey
Bunny (Amanda Plummer) and her boyfriend (Tim Roth)
hatching a plan to rob a restaurant. By their reasoning,
no one ever bothers with restaurants, just banks, so
why not take advantage of them "with their pants
down"? The stick-up proceeds, which is when the
famous titles roar forward and we find ourselves following
Jules and Vincent, who work for Marsellus, who has paid
championship boxer Butch (Bruce Willis) to fall in his
upcoming match. But, Butch has a better plan: Bet loads
of money on himself, beat the other guy to a bloody
pulp, and run away with his money. He almost gets away
with it when he accidentally crosses paths with Marsellus
once more, resulting in a rape scene to rival that in
"Deliverance."
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