Perhaps the most shocking entry in the Tarantino canon

Rating: Null/10 (6 February 2006)

Quent loves to play, and you can pretty much count the Kill Bills and Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs -- the director's entire oeuvre-- as the work of an oldish boy swinging self-consciously twixt the pits and pinnacles of as gaudy and embarrassing a public arrested adolescence as Hollywood has seen.
JB, on the other hand, is all the things the rest are not: subtle and sublimely emotionally resonant, an astoundingly adult work, drawn with feelings such as regret (in place of adolescent phobias), reluctant resignation (in place of retreat before a whooping menace with a straight razor), and compromise (in place of 'throw the gun out or we'll blast you' play-acting that alone seems to inform Quent's imagination). QT amazes us this time out with the maturity of his vision. We didn't know he had it in him. That simple.
There are many of us who wish the fan boy favorite would quit playing for the fan boys, and get down to the business of creating great films for the rest of the planet. Jackie Brown made us impatient for the inevitability of this development, and keeps the hope that it may some day happen alive for us. Just don't wait too long, Quent.
Ten of ten. See it.