They're wont be a film like this for years

Rating: 10/10 (5 August 2007)

Pulp Fiction is, quite simply, a masterpiece of cinema. It stands as one of the all-time greatest films. It beats out even The Godfather, and perhaps Citizen Kane. Everything about this masterwork is stunning, the way Tarantino embellishes and, finally, interlinks these old chestnuts that makes the film alternately exhilarating and frustrating.
It's the perfect prelude to the body of Pulp Fiction, an anthology of three luridly overblown, chronologically deviant stories, their narratives linked via characters who slide from one segment to the other as easily as a moll onto her sugar daddy's knee. Tarantino's characters may be goons, but they are also inveterate fat-chewers on par with the boys at Barry Levinson's "Diner." As the boss's wife, Mia (Uma Thurman), says to henchman Vincent (John Travolta), "When you little scamps get together, you're worse than a sewing circle." The performances are witty and eccentric, and the fine cast proves they can pull off extremely complex, unique charatcers. True to his nature, Tarantino stuffs "Pulp Fiction" with movie references, but its true strength is in turning these on end. The experience overall is like laughing down a gun barrel, a little bit tiring, a lot sick and maybe far too perverse for less jaded moviegoers. When bits of brain cling to Jules's oily ringlets, not everybody is going to laugh, perhaps because they have been too close to someone who has been the victim of a shotgun blast. Maybe we're laughing because we're too shellshocked by what we have become to cry.