Movie Review: Kill Bill Volumes I & II

Quinton Tarantino works more in the art of magic than in filmmaking. Kill Bill Volumes I and II is a majestic and beautifully surreal tale woven together in a patchwork of retro stylistic queues and a supreme understanding of what people want to see in a character. All the flaws in the movie are simultaneously its strengths. The story is entirely predictable, we all know Bill is going to die and a lot of people are going down with him. The characters are all shallow caricatures of Good bad asses and Evil bad asses. You want more though when the credits start rolling.

Even though you know all this, and every aspect of the movies are over the top, Tarantino makes it work. He builds an entire mythology surrounding the story, complete with Kung Fu masters teaching a lost martial art move and the Japanese Samurai sword maker ever to have lived, that are first dropped in as subtle hints in conversation that turn into entire stories within themselves as the plot thickens. Part of the mythology he builds is woven into the soundtrack, where every punch from The Bride makes a whisping noise and sword blades slice the air itself by being unsheathed. Magically, you forget how outlandish this is twenty minutes into the film because they are applied to perfect effect.

Furthermore, Tarantino is pop culture genius. More then knowing what the audience expects, he knows what his audience wants. Everything that we like is applied in the right amount, with the right music playing, just the right actors playing the parts, and just enough twist in the storyline to make it all so interesting that we don’t care that this story is just as fanciful as anything Tolkien wrote. It takes mad skill to let viewers who are generally wary of unrealistic plots to delve into this kind of movie. Tarantino gets back to the basics of why we go to the movies – to escape and be entertained. Subsequently, he takes us far away from our own lives to a place where we can comfortably put down the intellectual fences guarding against fantasy and succumb to the joy of watching and thoroughly enjoying a glorified Kung Fu movie.

Treyopia Kill Bill Movie Reviews

Rwanda, Ten Years On

I was twelve years old when I started following the news. My mother kept all our TIME magazines in a bin by the fireplace in our living room, so I used to go through old issues and read about the great battles in the desert of the Gulf War when I was done with the new issue. At that point, all the flags and parades and the pride of victory was still actively in my memory. As I was really getting into it, I learned that a plane had gone down over some African country and a President died. One ethnic group blamed the other for the accident. The magazine started having horrific pictures in them of dead women and children, hacked up by machetes. By that August, the cover had a few adults standing in a field of dead children’s bodies. I don’t remember if I read about it or if I saw it, but I still see in my minds eye some river turned blood red with corpses. That started ten years ago this month.

The experience changed me deeply. I was angered when Clinton responded years later by saying that he didn’t know the depth of the horror while defending his inaction. I was 12 and I knew, how could the President have not known? Though I understand now that the US response had more to do with Somalia than anything else did (the events that were dramatized in “Black Hawk Down” happened a few months earlier), I have always felt a deep conviction that we can and must stop such horror in the future.

After the events in Somalia, Haiti, and now in Iraq, Americans seem more reluctant than ever to commit forces anywhere where our national interests are not immediately evident. Some even argue that it’s none of our business. I retort that just as an adult has a moral obligation to break up a fight between children who are fighting with sticks, America has the moral obligation to use its superior firepower and logistical reach to prevent atrocities from happening in places where no one is in a position to stop it. With power comes responsibility. With democracy, comes a more ethically guided foreign policy. I feel there is no greater calling for a country than to prevent the demons of human nature like genocide from going unchecked again. We must also learn from our past mistakes, and take simple but effective steps to stop the bloodshed when troops leave, like ensuring a balance of power amongst rivals. This, my friends, is a moral necessity in a brutal world.


Tags: Treyopia Spinnaker, Current Events Rwanda genocide

Burn, Yassin, Burn

I will pray for the destruction of any group, no matter how just their cause might be, that intentionally kills women and children because of their religion, genes, or beliefs. It disturbs me that many world leaders have reacted with such outrage towards the assassination of Sheikh Ahmed Yassin, spiritual leader of Hamas. These same Ministers have never lifted a phone to call the grieving families who took the brunt of this man’s inspired atrocities. They’ve called Israel out for violating international law, but where are their relentless public condemnations of suicide bombing civilians? Yassin was fully involved in a genocidal struggle to purge the land he lives in of Jews. He got what he deserved.

Many in the European and American left have adopted the Palestinian cause without fully understanding the complexity of the situation. As with many on the hawkish right, they willfully disregard the well-being of one of the parties to come to an easy conclusion that no one can live with. The propaganda on both sides is well financed and riddled with hate.

It is unfortunate that so many of these people, who associate themselves with the causes of global justice and peace, haven’t stood loud and strong against the most violent and ruthless killers of our time. Hamas, al Aqsa Martyr’s Brigade, and Palestinian Islamic Jihad are no freedom fighters in the tradition we idolize in grade school text books, but instead they indulge in the purposeful bloodletting of civilians. There is nothing redeeming about choosing a target only because it kills the most Jews. As such, these groups must be obliterated for the good of man.

Many rebut that what the suicide bombers do and what the Israeli Defense Force (IDF) does are analogous. There are very few similarities. Operation Grapes of Wrath and the Sabra and Shatila massacres are the only cases where one can find intended non-combatant bloodletting by IDF forces. Though many non-combatants have died during IDF operations, it is unfortunate and unintentional collateral damage. When Hamas detonates a bomb, the end in itself is the collateral civilian damage. The IDF uses only guided weapons when attacking targets like Yassin – they aren’t firebombing entire cities as Hamas would if they had an air force. May all of Hamas find the same fate as their founder. Burn, Yassin, Burn.

Tags: Treyopia Spinnaker, Current Events Yassim, Terrorists Terrorism

Eurotrip v2.0, vol IV - Red Light District

We've reached the end of our journey. We fly to Chicago in six hours, then back in Jacksonville at 10. Tonight we walked through the Red Light District on our journey to meeting some roommates at a discothèque. It was unreal - a living, breathing and infected open wound in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. There, for all the world to see and gawk at, were women in glass cages like animals in a zoo. I don't know what kept them in their hells. Perhaps it was dept, perhaps they were escaping from something and fell into an even deeper pit along the way.

The red-lit alleys were narrow and full of horny men. Testosterone clung to the humidity like a pheromone smog. Most were just staring, wondering what to make of it. Some of the browsers were doing it for the sheer fun of mocking those of lower social standing. Others were shopping for women like you would clothes in a mall. The tables were turned, now it was the men who were being hunted down and were declining and ignoring every third step. Around some church there were particularly aggressive black women scratching the glass and opening their doors as you walked by, beckoning for men and their euro's.

Why would women volunteer to destroy themselves? How could anyone sell their very dignity to escape? How do you get out? I don't know. I don't ever want to go back. But it was over quickly. Ten blocks by three blocks and that was all. It was back to regular Amsterdam, bicycles and Dutchmen with light pouring from falafel stands and closed coffee shops.

I sit now sipping coke in the basement bar of the Flying Pig to stay awake until plane ride out. I wake Abe up in a little while. The hours have been harsh. We were up for 22 hours on Wednesday, got a couple hours of sleep on the plane over here, then spent another 7 hours walking around the city before crashing out for 12 hours today. I look forward to a beers with Izak on my roof, lunch at Angies, and a relaxing walk on the mid-day beach on Sunday. Warm dry clothes are a luxury I'll soon savor. I''ll alas be away from the horrible American 80's pop blaring in every restaurant, but also from the parks and the alien tongues that fill the ether like some sweet incense.

Thanks for following my journey with me. I''m sure I'll have some closing reflections upon arrival.

- Trey Menefee

Pictures (soon) and Eurotrip v2.0 Archives at http://www.treyopia.tk

Tags: Treyopia Europe Travel Amsterdam