I Can't Blame Anybody For Anything I Do

Rating: 7/10 (5 August 2011)

Jackie Brown is an airline stewardess who moves money to Mexico for L.A. arms dealer Ordell Robbie. After a shakedown by the cops, a worried Ordell decides he wants to get all his money out, and Jackie sees an opportunity to escape her situation
Based on Elmore Leonard's classic crime book Rum Punch, this is a sensational, hypnotic thriller, with outstanding direction, lashings of style, highly original characters and three fabulous performances from Grier, Jackson and Forster. Tarantino somehow manages to depict a criminal underworld which seems frighteningly real and brutal, and yet at the same time is filled with his beloved seventies nuances and crackerjack dialogue. The casting of cult blaxploitation star Grier (Coffy, Foxy Brown, Sheba Baby, Friday Foster) is obviously a dream come true for him, and he just can't get enough of shooting her - the opening five minutes is just a montage of her amazing face, memorably underscored with Bobby Womack's soulful number Across 110th Street. Grier seizes the role completely and delivers an amazing performance which retains all the chic and sexuality of her previous work, but with the depth and maturity to portray a middle-aged woman taking a desperate gamble on her future. She's amazing, and what I like best about the movie is Jackie's relationship with Max, who is also looking to break out of a rut, but is not as ambitious as Jackie. They have an extraordinary unspoken chemistry, and their two key scenes together - having coffee in Jackie's kitchen and the finale when they kiss - are my favourites. Contrasting their earthiness is Jackson's incredible turn as gangster Ordell, alternately hilarious and terrifying as he plays all the other characters like puppets. The only word to describe him is intense, and there are some moments - like the scene in the van when he closes his eyes and (correctly) deduces who has stiffed him - where he just burns up the screen. This kind of movie is all about the characters, and Tarantino lovingly crafts every word and nuance out of them all, from Ordell's braided goatee to Max's blue 1976 Cadillac Seville, all of which combine to create such a rich atmosphere. At two-and-a-half hours it could perhaps use a little trimming, but I'm not sure where; every scene is pretty tight, and as with all great thrillers the build-up pays off big time with a satisfying dramatic finish. An outstanding crime picture in every respect and the icing on the cake of Grier's long and distinguished career. Dedicated (very appropriately) to gifted writer/director Sam Fuller, who passed away just prior to the film's release.