Grindhouse (2007)

Directors: Robert Rodriguez, Eli Roth, Quentin Tarantino, Edgar Wright, Rob Zombie

A commercial flop, and not faring much better critically either, the Grindhouse project is certainly a bizarre endeavour. It's true that the irony of spending $53 million on recreating the feel of B-movies means that the line between total trash and stylish piece of art is often blurred; and it's not always clear which Grindhouse is trying to be.

The authenticity of Tarantino's feature, Death Proof, is marred by his relentless focus on his trademark features such as "snappy" dialogue (actually not snappy, just irritating, and boring, as in most of Kill Bill), and an obscure, retro soundtrack (here glaringly foregrounded as the boldly labelled record goes on in the bar). As such, it seems more like Tarantino's celebration of his own aesthetic than of Grindhouse cinema. There are moments that fit right in here - the climactic car chase and the fantastic ending among them - but so much more could have been done with his segment.

That said, Rodriguez's segment, Planet Terror, is an absolute scream. Intelligent it ain't, but it is knowing; funny and bloody, and, crucially, unpretentious, it makes for a hugely enjoyable pastiche. Additionally, the fake trailers (from directors Rodriguez, Roth, Wright and Zombie), positioned before and between the features, are uniformly superb.

Though it may not justify its budget, its novelty value may wear thin in places, and it may be too smug for its own good, Grindhouse ultimately provides more than three hours of good (bad) late-night entertainment, regardless of its aims. This is one that should be seen in the cinema, at night, as a whole (not in its extended, individual incarnations, which, taken out of context, don't have anything like the same effect). It's an experience, and that's the whole point of the thing - though this means that as a film with intrinsic value, it isn't necessarily much.