Pulp Fiction is pulp. Who knew?

Rating: 8/10 (6 March 2016)

Pulp Fiction is just the sort of film that will change the way that you think, although that remains to be seen whether or not that's a good thing. Ask yourself: would you rather live out your life thinking eloquent, civil thoughts or gleefully profane, borderline blasphemous mental rants (most of which having to do with fast food) that would send Mike Tyson running into a corner with both hands over his ears, screaming "I can't hear yooooou!!".
Okay, it's not that bad. The f-bomb count, according to the IMDb parents guide, is 272 (with 40 in the maternal form), but unless you're a fat, doe-eyed little boy with one hand on the TV remote and the other on the Bible, you won't be offended.
Anyway, I'll stop before this turns into a full blown parent's guide. I mean, if you want a parent's guide, go to the parent's guide.
Pulp Fiction reminded me of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice (or any of her works, for that matter) in that it prioritizes character exposition rather than narrative. In truth, the narrative -- much like an Austen novel -- is there, yes, but it's not really what we're in for. Rather, we dip into Tarantino's perverted thoughts to see his characters unfold, live, breathe, and die in front of us as they float through a world subject to Tarantino's gleeful aggressions. Tarantino, a master of dialogue (although I'm sure Austen would object), creates and develops such beautifully rich psychological profiles that he allows you to sympathize with even the most depraved of human beings. For me, being highly concerned with values and morals and all other sentimental detritus that modern society condemns, this proved slightly difficult to stomach. For example, in the first scene, we witness two murders. There's a bit of buildup, sure, but you're never quite given the reason why you have to sit through an execution.
To his credit, Tarantino makes his depravity an afterthought. The film pulsates with a beautiful energy absent from modern screen writing. And the acting is sublime. Never will I forget Hoffman's slick, cool, and hilariously restrained twist with Uma Thurman, or even good ol' Sam Jackson's "English motherf- (and you know the rest)", or EVEN Ving Rhames' wise comments on pride. The character's passionately delivered lines brim with quotable dialogue, the real, crazy stuff that sends delightful shivers down your spine.
As I previously mentioned, the plot really doesn't matter in this film. Tarantino's use of the nonlinear narrative (which has since become famous) ends up making the order of the story very difficult to follow. In fact, after finishing it, I couldn't for the life of me remember the order of what happened. I knew that some things happened: people talked, did drugs, killed people, got raped, etc, but the order in which all these things happened escaped me. But once you realize who died, who got raped, who talked, and who did drugs, you'll realize that the story is a great deal more complicated than you give it credit for being. Not only did the characters interact, they grew, progressed, and even died. This I loved. It's Pulp Fiction in its purest form, a mess of bullets, blood, and dialogue that is at once unexceptional and utterly unforgettable.