When the Tarantino/Rodriguez retro-double-feature Grindhouse came out, it was Death Proof that got the critics' motors running. They admitted it was talky, but this is the king of dialog, after all. Count me among fans who are underwhelmed. This film does have a kind of quirky charm, but the writer/director indulges himself far too much in eavesdropping on his characters when he ought to be putting them in peril. The setup is intriguing: some girls get together for a night of drinking at a bar and are stalked by an older man in a creepy muscle car who turns out to be a bad guy. Later, a similar group of girls becomes the target of the bad man's attention. Instead of spending 20 minutes setting up the first section, the director spends nearly an hour, with the payoff lasting about 2 minutes. The second group of girls includes two movie stuntwomen in their 20s who nevertheless know all about Quentin Tarantino's favorite movies and have a fantasy involving the car featured in the 1970 gear-grinder Vanishing Point. It's fairly ludicrous stuff that only really gets going when the girls at last get on the road with the bad guy. If Tarantino had cut 30 minutes from the beginning and extended the second section with more peril, he would have had a better film. As it is, it tends to ramble and go nowhere. It's full cool '70s music and the director's other trademarks, and the acting is good. I found the parts that work watchable enough, but overall, it was a disappointment.
Review of Death Proof
