Jackie Brown

That faint sloshing you hear is the sound of one of America’s most audacious and talented auteurs treading water. Granted, the man deserves a measure of credit for not playing it safe and making Pulp Fiction II: Sadistic Boogaloo, and it’s refreshing to see an obnoxious Young Turk like Tarantino tackle a story of middle-aged platonic love between a stewardess/drug courier (Grier, adequate in a role that required more) and a world-weary bail bondsman (Forster, magnificent). But in spite of its restraint—dare I say maturity?—much of Jackie Brown feels uninspired, merely proficient; it’s very evidently the work of a man who had no idea what to do next, but knew the time had come to do something. Let’s leave the Elmore Leonard adaptations to the folks who can’t write.

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