Vile, endless, horrid

Rating: 1/10 (27 August 2006)

I've come to really despise Tarantino's films and everything he stands for artistically. He has a vast knowledge of movie history that he dishonors by embracing only the things that leave the line of decency in the dust at 500 mph. He's the Lord Master of perverted nerds the world over, and only perverted nerds elevate his crap to high status here on IMDb. No thinking human being who isn't lurid and disturbed at heart could find this repellent puddle of blood fetishism and wanton dismemberment a masterpiece of anything but gratuitous and unsettling rubbish. I had never wanted to see it, but a sprained foot and nothing else on TV prompted me to sit through it.
Too long, too over the top, too stupid, too twisted, too much ripping off of Leone/Morricone/Kurosawa and 100 bad Asian Kung Fu flicks that are the worst of the worst of anything calling itself cinema. I'm sick of Tarantino's one dimensional act. He steals dialogue, scenes and images from tons of different movies and morons who don't know the movies and have no clue of his tricks are sold into thinking they've seen some great, profound, original, hip piece of art. Well they haven't. It's dreck. Tarantino's an annoying and limited hack well past his 'sell by' date and this film is as base and putrid - and empty - a piece of crap that has ever been spewed onto celluloid.
A society who embraces this kind of satanic vomit is headed for a black hole. What's next Quentin? A blood dripping musical where a guy singin' in the rain gets anally raped by a Vietnamese version of the Dead End Kids then hunts them down one by one Charles Bronson style with a mystical meat cleaver made by ancient monks in Timbuktu? After being trained in a San Francisco dojo by Fabian? Your following of psychotic anti-social, bloody retro-pop nerds is probably salivating at the idea.
I'll be sure to skip Kill Bill 2 even if I'm laid up with two broken legs