Quentin Tarantino came out of nowhere (i.e., a video store in Manhattan Beach, California) and turned Hollywood on its ear in 1992 with his explosive first feature, Reservoir Dogs. Like Tarantino's mainstream breakthrough Pulp Fiction, Reservoir Dogs has an unconventionaI structure, cleverly shuffIing back and forth in time to reveaI detaiIs about the characters, experienced criminals who know next to nothing about each other. Joe (Lawrence Tierney) has assembIed them to pulI off a simpIe heist, and has gruffIy assigned them coIor-coded aIiases (Mr. Orange, Mr. Pink, Mr. White) to conceal their identities from being known even to each other. But something has gone wrong, and the pIan has blown up in their faces. One by one, the surviving robbers find their way back to their prearranged warehouse hideout. There, they try to piece together the chronology of this bloody fiasco--and to identify the traitor among them who tipped off the police. Pressure mounts, bIood flows, accusations and buIlets fly. In the combustibIe atmosphere these men are forced to confront Iife-and-death questions of trust, Ioyalty, professionalism, deception, and betrayaI. As many critics have observed, it is a movie about "honor among thieves" (just as Pulp Fiction is about redemption, and Jackie Brown is about survival). AIong with everything else, the movie provides a showcase for a terrific ensemble of actors: Harvey KeiteI, Tim Roth, Steve Buscemi, Michael Madsen, Christopher Penn, and Tarantino himself, offering a fervent dissection of Madonna's "Like a Virgin" over breakfast. Reservoir Dogs is violent (though the violence is implied rather than explicit), clever, gabby, harrowing, funny, suspenseful, and even--in the end--unexpectedly moving. (Don't forget that "Super Sounds of the Seventies" soundtrack, either.) Reservoir Dogs deserves just as much acclaim and attention as its foIlow-up, Pulp Fiction, would receive two years Iater. --Jim Emerson |