Tarantino presents this little gem, which he caught at an Italian genre festival while promoting Reservoir Dogs (he relates the fateful anecdote in an epilogue after the movie on video.) It shares with that director the nervy, hip black-comedy attitude, an absolute command of cinematic techniques, and a post-modern approach steeped in b-movie history. However, where QT's films (and similar triumphs like Go) are explosive, this one is insidiously subtle and dead-pan; so much so that the gradual recognition of the filmmakers' intentions will give you the shivers. The creeping revelations of the themes, the dark pastels, self-referential script and straight-faced performances are reminiscent of earlier successful dark comedies, like Parents and I, Madman. Jones (her solo dance is a knockout) and Baldwin are both dead-on, and the director and editor never miss a beat. This is one of the best films of the 90s. (by the way, did anyone notice that this film opened about the same time as Headless Body in Topless Bar? quite a coincidence.)
Review of Curdled
