Death Proof is a homage to 70s movies. It contains a treasure trove of explicit and hidden references to the pop culture of the director's childhood. It is an exercise in stylistic excess. What it is not, however, is entertaining and engaging.
The lighting is intentionally poor, and the colors are washed out. The actors overact egregiously. The added visual effect of a worn-out film print adds nothing to the viewers' aesthetic pleasure. The trash talk of the women not only sounds like men, it sounds like one man in particular. Like a lot of Tarantino characters post Pulp Fiction, there is no differentiation in characterization through dialogue. These tedious longueurs are simply infantile; pure cringe.
The action sequence with two cars at the end is entertaining, but the wait to get there is interminable. In sum, ill-advised from conception, Death Proof is dull, pointless and self-indulgent.
The lighting is intentionally poor, and the colors are washed out. The actors overact egregiously. The added visual effect of a worn-out film print adds nothing to the viewers' aesthetic pleasure. The trash talk of the women not only sounds like men, it sounds like one man in particular. Like a lot of Tarantino characters post Pulp Fiction, there is no differentiation in characterization through dialogue. These tedious longueurs are simply infantile; pure cringe.
The action sequence with two cars at the end is entertaining, but the wait to get there is interminable. In sum, ill-advised from conception, Death Proof is dull, pointless and self-indulgent.