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Maynard goes to the movies

On Wednesday’s show, Tammy briefly skewered this film, juxtaposing its excessive violence against the murderous rampage at Virginia Tech, and touching on the cultural degradation and normalization of the unspeakable. She was pleased to note its poor box office performance, citing this as a sign that Americans are rising above such toxic rubbish.

How can I respond to that? Do I dare defend that which is indefensible and promote that which is vile?

If I were smart, I’d hold my peace. But against my better judgment, here goes.

Everything Tammy said about Grindhouse is true. It is vile, vulgar, and low. It is violent, degrading, and disgusting. It’s filled with shootings, decapitations, dismemberments, chases, crashes, and explosions, punctuated by occasional interludes of lust and melodrama.

If you take it at face value, you’ll condemn it, and rightly so. Many reasonable people will see it in these terms, and who am I to argue with reasonable people? But I will say this…

It was not the film makers’ intention that this movie be taken at face value. It was made as parody, and I accept it on those terms. It’s an environmental portrayal of low-budget “B” movies playing in a low-budget cinema. The show is a double feature, and includes a number of (fake) previews of creepy coming attractions (such as “Werewolf Women of the SS”), plus announcements and local advertisements. The presentation is plagued by (intentionally) decrepit film quality, focus problems, missing footage, and even a spicy moment where the projector jams and burns a hole in the frame. This weirdly retro experience is far removed from a typical evening at a modern cinemaplex.

What I got from Grindhouse was, in a word, escapism. With the world in dire shape, and so many serious and threatening things going on, it felt great to go to the cinema and see something offbeat and fascinating and far-removed from reality. The action and drama were so ridiculous and over-the-top that I couldn’t take it seriously. (“I’m gonna eat your brains and gain your knowledge!”) No, instead of blanching, I mostly grinned and cackled like an idiot, except when some of the puke-inducing images made me avert my eyes momentarily.

(And, no, I see no causal connection at all between cartoon violence and real violence. Every sentient creature, including your pet dog or cat, knows the difference between play-fighting and real fighting. In fact, I’d go so far as to claim that we need a certain amount of play-fighting in order to let off the steam that would otherwise erupt in nastiness.)

Had I been a better man, I would have instead gone to see Amazing Grace, an uplifting tale of the anti-slavery movement, as good people had urged me to do. But, no, I ignored this wise counsel and snuck out to see Grindhouse. Now you know what sort of person you’re dealing with.

What can I say? I was a child of Hollywood, and the world of low-budget “B” movies represents a sort of anarchic paradise in my fantasies. A world where obsessive people desperately strive to burn their visions into celluloid. Yes, I regard, for example, Ed Wood as a romantic hero of sorts. At least in the abstract; I’m sure in real life he was insufferable.

Grindhouse isn’t a movie; it’s an atmospheric homage. And I happen to hold an odd fascination for what it aspires to venerate.

No, this movie is not for everybody, and it’s probably not for you. But neither is it without merit. If you are, like me, intrigued by the allure of this weird fringe cinema, you may want to check it out.

For more information, visit IMDB or Wikipedia or the official website. Or see what other reviewers have to say.