Reservoir Dogs

I am not going to lie...I am not a Tarantino girl. I've never felt like the target demographic for his violent, drug-fuelled, wildly profane epics (although I did enjoy the historical quirkiness of Inglorious Bastards). Still, I was told by many that Reservoir Dogs (his debut) remains his best work. So, I tried my best to put my preconceived notions of Quentin to the side and dive into the ganglands of Reservoir Dogs. I'm glad I did. This one was well worth the watch.

One thing that always strikes me about Tarantino, despite my reservations about his excesses, is the quality of his casting. This is epitomised in the extended opening scene: a group of sharply dressed gangsters are having breakfast, debating over the morality of tipping. Steve Buscemi's performance as Mr. Pink is iconic as he nails the lanky gangster's smarmy self-righteousness. Each man has been assigned a colour alias (Mr. Brown, Mr. White etc), a clear signal that they are concealing their real identities and preparing for something illicit. The comedy in the scene is rooted in its mundanity (they passionately discuss social etiquette), whilst the threat of impending violence underscores the dialogue. As they berate Mr. Pink for his poor manners, the irony of selective morality is set out from the start.

Suddenly, we cut abruptly to Mr. Orange (Tim Roth) bleeding out in the back of Mr. White's car. The tonal change is graphic, swiftly undercutting the lighthearted banter of the previous scene. Tarantino has no qualms about bathing scenes in blood, as will become apparent later on. When they finally reach the safehouse, Orange is in a dire state. White, despite barely knowing him, cradles him like a child, brushing his hair with a comb and urging him to wait for more backup. It is a surprising level of tenderness given the machismo displayed in the opening scene. Tim Roth delivers a gruesome performance as he writhes in pain, whilst Harvey Keitel (White) provides us with a likeable central figure whom we immediately root for, despite his criminal proclivities.

The tension escalates as the ensemble reassembles: Mr. Pink storms into the safehouse, convinced that the team has been set up. We learn that an alarm was tripped during the heist and that Mr. Blonde opened fire on the bank workers. Paranoia escalates into a furious standoff between Pink and White, until Blonde (the loose canon in question) saunters in, with a kidnapped cop in the boot of his car. The volatility at play is palpable and masterfully curated, both in performance and direction. Ok, Quentin, I am firmly on side.

The group beat policeman Marvin Nash for information, until 'Nice Guy Eddie', the son of a mob boss, appears and instructs them to help get rid of the incriminating hoard of getaway cars outside. Blonde is left alone with the copper, as well as Orange, whose blood is slowly soaking the concrete floor. Micheal Madsen is superb as Blonde, capturing the character's disconcerting ease and infusing him with an underlying sadistic venom. A gruesome torture scene ensues - one I'll admit I struggled with. Whilst I find stylisitic violence entertaining, I found it difficult to endure the sheer level of cruelty that takes place here. Mr. Blonde slashes at Nash's face and saws his ear off as the tune 'Stuck in the Middle With You' plays cheerfully over top. Whilst I have my own personal reservations about torture scenes, I can appreciate Tarantino's fearlessness: he is not afraid to play with extremes of light and shade, exhibited in this scene's unsettling dissonance. In a final act of horror, Blonde douses Nash in oil before tantalisingly lighting a match. The moment is horrifying, and is epically undone at the final second as Mr. Orange shoots Blonde. The scene is paced perfectly, crescendoing with the promise of horrific violence, before throwing the audience through a loop with Orange's unexpected rescue.

Orange reveals to Nash that he is an undercover cop and Nash confesses that he recognised Orange, but both refused to reveal one another's identity. It is one of the film's few moments of honour, but for two characters whose fates hang excruciatingly in the balance: Orange reveals that the police are waiting for Eddie to return before they can move in and save them. When Eddie, Pink and White return to the bloody scene, they are stunned by Blonde's murder. Orange tries to persuade them that Blonde was planning to take off with the stolen diamonds, forcing Orange to shoot him. Eddie, unconvinced by the story, shoots Nash, severing our hope for the unfortunate cop and displaying the grim reality of this cut-throat world. White, however, puts his faith in Orange's story and a fabulous Mexican standoff ensues. White emerges as the most compelling character in Reservoir Dogs; the only gangster who displays genuine loyalty and moral conviction, defending Orange even when his life is threatened. Tarantino, fearless in his violent resolve, doesn't hesitate to pull the trigger (literally) and all three fire. Pink and Eddie are immediately killed, whilst White is severely wounded.

As they die, White cradles Orange in his arms in solidarity. In an excruciating final moment, Orange confesses his true identity. For what reason we do not know; guilt, or something else. Perhaps White, for his flawed goodness, deserves the simple truth. As police sirens wail in the distance, White reaches for his gun, pressing it weakly to Orange's head in a desperate act of vengeance. His hand shakes. Is it blood loss, or a gangster unsure of what his final act on earth should be? The devastation is both intimate and confounding: it is difficult to know who we want to survive as we hear the doors of the warehouse open and the credits begin to roll. The cliffhanger is sufficiently exasperating: on one hand, not knowing whether Orange survives points to the innate brutality of Tarantino's world, but there is no redemption arc, no survival story for any character. They either lie dead or dying. Tarantino refuses to round the whole thing up neatly... after all, that wouldn't be the ugly truth he spent the last 90 minutes painting.

Reservoir Dogs is, at its core, a relatively simple story of a botched heist. But it is elevated to greatness by an exceptional ensemble, disarming violence and fearless stylistic direction. I am usually adverse to what I would call self-indulgent violence (displayed in Django, for instance), but the world of Reservoir Dogs is so perfectly curated by Tarantino that it feels intrinsic rather than gratuitous. It is for this reason that Reservoir Dogs stands as my favourite Tarantino film to date.

7.5/10

Yours sincerely,

The Film Buff