I Have Never Claimed To Be Cool

I have to confess something that is probably going to fill a goodish part of our readership (and probably also Steve-O) with disdain, if not downright horror: Last evening, after an exhausting weekend, I sat down to try and watch Pulp Fiction. This was my third or fourth attempt over the past year or so.

I don't get it.

I just don't get it.

I completely fail to see why this movie holds such a fascination for some people.

I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to toss this one into the file labelled "Movies People Hype Because They Think It Makes Them Look Coo-el." Other such movies include The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Harold and Maude and The Graduate.

Then again, perhaps it's just me. As regular readers know, I'm the one around here who's most like the waiter at Milliways: I'm so unhip it's a wonder my bum doesn't fall off. However, that doesn't worry me, since I long ago adopted the updated motto of the Complaints Department of the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation.

UPDATE: Quentin Tarantino sucks. Seriously, his movies are not holding up too well. Resevoir Dogs is a great movie, original and bold. It was the last non-derivative movie he has made. Pulp Fiction is becoming the cinematic version of the avacado colored kitchen appliance, Jackie Brown makes no sense and Kill Bill was pure self indulgent cinema out of the Spike Lee school of crap.

Time will show that Paul Thomas Anderson is the much better moviemaker of that age cohort, long after Tarantino's days as a bad boy of Sundance and Cannes are just memories. Anderson's movies keep getting better because each one is new: it is not derivative or self referencing to his previous work. Look for Tarantino and Kevin Smith to headline what ever the baby busters come up with as the post modern, "hip" and ironic version of Branson Missouri in about twenty years, where they'll have their own theatre right next to a lesbian bookshop/do-jo run by Justine Bateman. Neil Patrick Harris will have the chiropractor/holistic healing/crystals office/temple on the third floor, right down the street from the Baldwin Brothers Review.

Can't you just wait for the Baldwin Brothers to do a special show together with the Osmonds?

FURTHER UPDATE: Just for clarification, that was Steve-O's rant, not mine. He's way far more up on these things than I am. I just said I didn't get it. So if there's going to be any mud-wrestling with Kathy over this one, Steve is going to take on the role of Dewey "Ox" Oxburger, not me.

YIPS from Steve: My bad. I "update"ed rather than "Yips"ed. I'm the philistine around here!