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Paris, ‘Pulp Fiction,’ the proper way to approach Tarantino

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Pulp Fiction/1994/Miramax Films/154 min.

My upcoming trip to Paris (I leave tomorrow) triggered the memory of that great scene in “Pulp Fiction” where two hit men chat about a quarter-pounder with cheese (Royale with cheese) in Paris so I decided to run this review in honor of my trip. For the next two weeks, my posts will slow down a bit as I spend time with a lovely friend and soak in the atmosphere of this ravishingly beautiful city.

Quentin Tarantino at the Cannes film fest in 2008.

Several years ago, at the Cannes Film Fest, I saw Quentin Tarantino rushing down the Croisette but I froze and didn’t approach him to say how much I liked his work. (He was helming the jury that year.) As I stood there, regretting that I’d missed the chance, two English guys walked up and asked me if I was lost. I filled them in; they said I was quite right to have refrained.

But then two Italian men joined us and told me I was crazy not to have said hello. “Maybe he’ll show up at the Ritz,” one of them said, gesturing toward the hotel. “Why don’t we have a glass of champagne there and see if perhaps he arrives?”

As tempting as that sounded, I’d already agreed to meet people at the cheap and cheerful Le Petite Carlton, where the casual, sometimes-raucous crowd spreads out into the street, people bum Marlboros and Gitanes, beer is served in tacky plastic cups and a little kitchen churns out thin-crust pizza well into the early morning hours. Another missed opportunity! 😉

So if by some odd chance, on this trip, I happen to see Tarantino on the Champs Elysee or some charming Italian men invite me to cocktails at the Ritz, I’ll know what to do!

John Travolta and Samuel L. Jackson in "Pulp Fiction."

“Pulp Fiction” is a neo noir of audacious originality, comic brilliance and exquisite craftsmanship. It was one of the most important films of the 1990s. Like his previous film, 1992’s “Reservoir Dogs,” it’s a crime movie that deals with bad guys doing bad stuff – in “Dogs” it’s a robbery gone wrong. In “Pulp Fiction” we’re immersed in three separate but interwoven stories about two chatty hit men, a corrupt boxer who defies a mob boss, and a grunge version of Bonnie and Clyde.

Tarantino tells us the stories out of order, bookended by the scruffy lover bandits (Tim Roth as Pumpkin and Amanda Plummer as Honey Bunny) who hold up an LA coffee shop. Bruce Willis plays Butch the boxer who pulls a double-cross. John Travolta made a stunning comeback as sexy smart-ass Vincent Vega and Samuel L. Jackson dazzles as Jules Winnfield, an armchair philosopher packing heat.

As Vincent and Jules discuss fast food, foot massages and Fate, Vincent is assigned an extra job from brawny bossman Marsellus Wallace (Ving Rhames): to take Mrs. Wallace (Uma Thurman) aka Mia out on the town. A headturner with jet-black hair, Louise Brooks bangs, wide blue eyes and long legs, Mia gets what Mia wants. Topping the list are milkshakes, drugs and dancing. Make that dancing with Travolta, mmm.

There is much to love about this film, particularly the highly original characters and crackling dialogue, which includes one-liners, retro slang, debates over points of logic and lengthy tangents of trivia. The dialogue seems to emerge organically from the characters and random chitchat punctuates major dramatic moments.

Actors talk with their back to the camera and sometimes put the imminent action on hold so they can wind up their conversation. Even though Pumpkin and Honey Bunny probably get the least amount of screen time, through their dialogue, we see several layers of their partnership, both tough and tender. More

Quick hit: ‘Pulp Fiction’

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Pulp Fiction/1994/Miramax Films/154 min.

One of the great loves of my life is Quentin Tarantino’s imagination and the bizarre people dwelling there. In “Pulp Fiction,” we meet a pair of hit men with a gift for gab, a boxer who refuses to throw a fight, and two adorable armed robbers named Pumpkin and Honey Bunny. John Travolta, Samuel L. Jackson, Uma Thurman and Bruce Willis star. Tarantino and partner Roger Avary won the Oscar for best original screenplay.

My quest for the perfect eyeliner: Part Three

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I realize I’ve been remiss in my eyeliner updates. There have been so many noir movie events in April and May, I have, alas, fallen behind. But I have squirreling away tubes and sampling them when I can.

L’Oréal’s Voluminous Eyeliner has a slanted applicator.

Lately, I’ve been experimenting with Voluminous Eyeliner Mistake-Proof Marker by L’Oréal, $7. The felt tip is slanted so you can choose a thin line (use the pointed tip) or a thick line (use the slanted side).

Once you get it on, it does stay put and wears well; it also removes easily. But mistake proof? Not so much. Though the company says the flow of liquid is controlled and continuous, the tip itself doesn’t give you much juice so, in terms of ease of use, I was a little disappointed.

The key, I found, is a light touch. Because it’s a marker I was tending to hold the tube with the same strong grip that I would hold a Sharpie. That is not the way to apply – instead, easy does it! Voluminous is pretty good for a soft line, especially along lower lashes. Only $7, it’s worth a try, especially if you want to go a bit lighter for summer.

Product Source: From my own collection; I did not receive product or compensation from L’Oréal.

This month’s reader giveaway: Experience the elegance of Bulgari’s Jasmin Noir body cream

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“Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication,” said Leonardo da Vinci. Somehow I don’t think he had beauty routines or vanity tables in mind when he said this but you never know. He was a Renaissance man, after all.

Bulgari's new body cream absorbs easily, leaving an intoxicating scent.

I recently found a new product that’s really rather captivating in its simplicity, Bulgari’s Jasmin Noir body cream. The plain black jar, minimally adorned with a single gold band, catches the eye. The rich, yet light, cream is a joy to use, keeps skin summer-soft and eliminates the need for any other fragrance.

Earlier this week, I slathered some on after a shower and then dashed out the door for a blowout. “You smell fantastic. What is that?” Nava, the stylist, asked me as she washed my hair. Leaning back, with my feet up, it was the perfect way to relish the feeling of well being and pampering.

Bulgari says it was drawn to jasmine for its “intriguing ambivalence and complexity,” noting that the flower’s scent changes hour by hour. “At dawn, the translucent white flower has a fresh and delicate scent, then at midday it releases a citrusy fragrance that recalls orange blossoms, which then transforms in the evening into the characteristically warmer, more seductive notes.”

Perfect for a femme fatale, no? Also available: soap, bath & shower gel, body lotion and perfume. Bulgari’s Jasmin Noir Body Cream is $90 for 6.9 ounces. To buy it, visit Neiman Marcus.

Best of all, I have an extra jar for this month’s reader giveaway! To enter, just leave a comment on any FNB post, June 1-30. The winner will be randomly selected at the end of the month and announced in early July. Include your email address in your comment so that I can notify you if you win. Your email will not be shared. (The winner of the April giveaway has been selected and contacted.)

Product Source: Bulgari has provided a product for review and a product to give away to a reader. I did not receive compensation.

Pick up L.A. Noire, where limelight meets streetlight, but be warned: it is hard to put down

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By Logan Senn

L.A. Noire – the newest installment in a long line of genre-defining games from Rockstar Games and Team Bondi – fuses a sandbox-style, open-world, first-person detective game with the gritty and compelling backdrop of post-WWII Los Angeles. This daring venture, from the gaming think-tank made famous through the Grand Theft Auto series, has broken into uncharted territory with the first game ever to seamlessly blur the lines between gaming and cinema, doing so in near-perfect fashion.

Aaron Staton

As the opening cinematic sequence beautifully displays the glitz and glamour of golden-age ’40s Hollywood, we are introduced to our leading man Cole Phelps (Aaron Staton of “Mad Men”), an LAPD Detective who was thrown into his position headfirst after a brief stint as an officer in the war. The storyline follows Phelps as he climbs the ranks and battles over a seemingly unending quest to tackle cases of corruption, drugs, arson and murder, all the while fighting with his own brutal conscience and his decisions about morality.

It sounds more like the plot of a twisted noir novel than that of a multimillion-dollar gaming endeavor, but I assure you that every possible facet of this cinematic journey has been overly developed to the point where you can hardly discern between the enveloping story and the gameplay itself.

L.A. Noire is the first game on record to use Team Bondi’s new MotionScan animation-capture technology. With MotionScan, the game’s producers were able to capture actors’ facial expressions and body language with an accuracy never seen before on any gaming console. More to the point, it asks players to use every aspect of their intellect to evaluate and engage with the in-game characters’ physical actions and reactions.

This is a groundbreaking game on many other levels as well. The size and scope of the game are completely unmatched in anything I’ve ever come across on a console system. Everything from the scenic Los Angeles backdrop to the rich and enthralling soundtrack have been fine-tuned to deliver the true feeling of the dark and twisted world around you.

As far as the gameplay goes, there is little available on the open market to compare it to. The game delicately walks the tightrope between beautiful CGI and actual interactive gameplay. There are times in which the player has trouble figuring out when it’s actually time to pick up the controller and start playing. The cinematics are breathtaking, and the new sandbox engine far exceeds the greatest expectations of the most seasoned gaming veterans.

I would compare it to the GTA (Grand Theft Auto) series, but that would be doing L.A. Noire a serious injustice. You could spend countless hours exploring the rich scenery of a Los Angeles long forgotten. Angelinos may take particular interest here in that it’s pretty darn fun to explore your neighborhood as it looked nearly 70 years ago. With more than 60 model cars available, the driving is authentic and the shootouts feel realistic but not overwhelming.

The most interesting aspects of the game, however, are the deeply layered interrogation scenes. Each one of the dozens of cases comes with its own cast of characters, offering hundreds of unique and diverse plotlines. It’s up to the player to read and interpret the facial expressions and body language of the suspects, and the outcome of the story depends on your ability to do so accurately.More

Honey, your June horoscope is here …

Marilyn Monroe
Susan Hayward

Fate reigns supreme in film noir, but that doesn’t mean we don’t love us some zodiac fun. Hope your June is full of brides wearing black and plenty of men with beachworthy bodies. And happy birthday, Gemini and Cancer! A special shout-out and remembrances to Gemini A-listers Marilyn Monroe (June 1), Tony Curtis (June 3), Angelina Jolie (June 4), Isabella Rossellini and Roger Ebert (June 18), Kathleen Turner (June 19), and Cancer treasures Billy Wilder (June 22), Frances McDormand (June 23), John Cusack (June 28) and Susan Hayward (June 30).

Gemini (May 22-June 21): This month, when you get that let’s-put-on-a-show! feeling, go with the urge. No experience, no cash, no contacts? No problem! See where enthusiasm and can-do energy will take you. Even if it doesn’t take you all the way, you will be generating exciting ideas and forging new paths. Man du Jour will make this a summer to remember; cut him some slack if he forgets to chill the champagne or shows up with a mere dozen roses. Keep him sweet – you may need him to work the curtain. 😉

Cancer (June 22-July 23): “Didn’t we just have this conversation?” you might find yourself saying, your typically dulcet tone poised to become an impatient snarl. In other words, there could be a few minor communication snags that try your patience and leave you flummoxed. Wait, I take that back. Flummoxed? I think not. Self-possessed and supremely confident, you can handle anything that comes your way. This month, try to dole out a bit of patience for those less capable than you. Be extra flexible the weekend of the 16th. More

8mm sizzles with noir-tinged rock: Friday at the Roxy

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With a haunting voice, retro-glam sexiness, and material both subtle and raw, Juliette Beavan of 8mm melds a femme fatale’s sophistication with flinty rock energy. From the first searing notes, often punctuated by smoke and shadow, the songs draw you in like a Hitchcock thriller; lyrics linger in your head well beyond the show’s end. This part of “Crawl,” for instance, is hard to forget: “or maybe there’s another/ trick, another spell/ and I could change you/ and I’d draw you to me/ pull you to me, crawl to me./ draw you to me/ pull you to me/ call you to me/crawl to me.”
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Her bandmates include her husband Sean Beavan (guitar, vocals) and Jon Nicholson (drums). They describe their sound as “trip-hop influenced pop-rock.” First-rate musicians, the guys are the perfect complement to Juliette’s vocals and keyboard.
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Juliette Beavan of 8mm. Photo by Critter Newell
“That’s right, blame it on the girl,” she might tease them between songs, before adjusting her mic or straightening a cord. A New Orleans native, she’s fond of bringing beads, candy and banter to toss to the eager crowd, many of whom clutch cameras the way people used to flick lighters as preface to an encore.
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Together since 2004, 8mm has an impressive resume that includes four albums and several tours (the US, Canada, the UK and Chile). Sean Beavan, who hails from Cleveland, formerly worked with bands such as Marilyn Manson, Nine Inch Nails and God Lives Underwater. He and Juliette write the songs; their work has been featured in the 2005 film “Mr. & Mrs. Smith” as well as in a number of TV shows, including “One Tree Hill,” “Grey’s Anatomy,” “Moonlight,” “Dirt,” Road Rules,” and “The Real World: Sydney.”
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You can see 8mm for yourself Friday, June 3, at the Roxy Theatre, with the Kidney Thieves, Cage 9, The Shakers and DJ High Voltage. The show starts at 8 p.m. and 8mm goes on at 9 p.m.
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I caught up with Juliette recently to chat about the band’s penchant for noir.
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Mr E Man: The band’s name is a film reference, your shows are richly atmospheric and your songs often deal with mystery, secrets, betrayal and hidden desire, much as a film noir would. Can you talk about how the aesthetic of film noir in general has been an influence for you?
Juliette Beavan: Yes, a reference to the film stock, because for us, 8mm film brings to mind smoky back rooms of 1930s Berlin, the first stag films, the early home movies … in other words, secrets, memories, longings (secret and professed) and decadence … all the things we try to bring to our music. They also happen to be things that are part and parcel to any good film noir. In addition, the look, the sleek styling, elegant and dangerous players, well, that sounds like a band to us!
8mm plays the Viper Room. Photo by Billy Howerdel

FNB: Any femmes fatales that stand out for you?
JB: Hahaha, are you gonna ask any questions with short answers? Where to start … Marlene Dietrich, Bette Davis, Marilyn Monroe, Gene Tierney, Lauren Bacall, Joan Crawford, Anne Baxter, Nora Zehetner in “Brick” does a wonderful job, not to mention (I know they’re not femmes fatales, but I would be remiss to leave the men out) Joseph Gordon-Levitt gives Bogey a run for his money in that film. And for the men, of course, there is the one and only Humphrey Bogart.

FNB: Of ’40s and ’50s singers or bands, who are your top favorites?
JB: Nat King Cole, Frank Sinatra, Billie Holiday, Edith Piaf, Bing Crosby, to name a few.

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8mm's Jon Nicholson, Juliette Beavan and Sean Beavan. Photo by Herwig Maurer

FNB: Do you essentially get into character when you perform, especially Juliette as the frontwoman?
JB: In a sense, yes, and it varies from song to song, because each one is a different story, character, sort of mini movie for us. I’m a storyteller not a character (like a GaGa or Madonna), so the approach is a little different. It only takes a note or two for me “see it” in my head again, to step into “her” shoes … from there it’s just natural.

You kind of have to use your whole body to tell the story, and the story becomes my own for that time.

FNB: Raymond Chandler said a good story cannot be devised; it has to be distilled. Do you think that’s true for writing songs and music?
JB: Certainly at times … what Sean plays makes me see stories, so I suppose you could say that is a bit of a distilling process to bring the story down into its key emotional components for a 3 minute song. However, there are other times when you get a “cosmic FedEx” (a term we’re stealing from Scott Russo of Unwritten Law). That’s where the song comes to you almost writing itself and you have to grab and get it down before it moves on. You know, the muse will find another host if you aren’t paying attention.

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Brian De Palma’s ‘Blow Out’ sometimes makes us roll our eyes and sometimes holds us spellbound

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Having received good feedback from the winner of April’s giveaway – the prize was Criterion’s rerelease of “Blow Out” – I realized it was high time to run the review. 😉

Brian De Palma/1981/ Filmways Pictures/107 min.

Michael Wilmington

By Michael Wilmington

“Blow Out,” Brian De Palma’s 1981 neo noir about a movie sound man (played by John Travolta), who stumbles into a political conspiracy and a string of murders, is a movie for connoisseurs of trash and movie art. One of this movie’s strongest critical admirers (and one of De Palma’s) was Pauline Kael, and one of Kael’s most famous critical essays is called “Trash, Art and the Movies.” We get all three of them here, in a film that sometimes makes us roll our eyes and sometimes holds us spellbound.

“Blow Out” probably took its title partly from Michelangelo Antonioni’s “Blowup,” which is about a swinging ’60s London photographer who stumbles on what may be murder. And it centers around one of Travolta’s sexiest performances, as Jack Terry the lone-wolf Philadelphia sound-effects man, who is working on a sleazy slasher horror movie.

The director is dissatisfied with the scream Jack has supplied for one of the victims. The movie within the movie is a terrible, inept picture, which De Palma stages as a send-up of “Halloween” and other teen slasher pics. But Jack is a pro. He takes his equipment out that night to get more ambient night-sound on a suburban bridge.

Nancy Allen

That bridge is an unusually well-populated one, considering the lateness of the hour. There are crickets and an owl, who stares at us disturbingly, and there’s another filmmaker named Manny Karp (Dennis Franz), who’s got his camera set up somewhere near Jack (but whom Jack doesn’t know and doesn’t see), and finally there’s a speeding car, carrying, amazingly, the current front-running candidate for president of the United States, Governor McRyan, (John Hoffmeister) together with a hot blonde named Sally (Nancy Allen).

Jack hears a couple of bangs (and catches them on his recorder) and the governor’s car plunges through a fence and into the river where it quickly sinks. Jack dives in and is able to rescue Sally, but not the possible next president.

Soon we’re at the hospital, where Sally is groggily coming to. The police, reporters and some political people, visions of Chappaquiddick perhaps dancing in their heads, seem to want Jack and Nancy to just clam up and go away. He won’t. She wants to, at first, but decides she likes Jack.

Then Manny and his Zapruderish film turns up, and ex-Philadelphian De Palma turns the city into a house of horrors more violent than anything in ex-Philadephian David Lynch’s neighborhood, craning and swooping and whirling his camera all around a world gone seemingly mad. There’s a deadly plot of some kind afoot, and its bloodiest agent is a phony telephone company worker named Burke (played with a truly evil stare and icily smug expression by John Lithgow), a cold-blooded killer who seems willing to depopulate half the town to keep all the guilty secrets safe.

If that sounds like a pretty absurd plot, it often plays pretty silly too, though just as often it’s imaginatively over-the-top and hellishly exciting. I‘ve always thought De Palma should avoid solo-writing jobs on his own movie scripts. And “Blow Out” as well as “Raising Cain” and “Femme Fatale” (and 1968’s “Murder a la Mod,” which is included in this Criterion package) are good demonstrations why. “Blow Out” is never boring. But a lot of the time it doesn’t make any bloody sense.

So why did Kael call it a great movie? Mostly, maybe, because she very much liked De Palma’s work, because this movie is made with such great feverish style, and also maybe because she had a crush of sorts on Travolta, as she had on Marlon Brando, Paul Newman and Warren Beatty.

The style is what we remember about “Blow Out” – not the ideas, which are mostly shallow or obvious, or the story, which is both predictable and illogical, or the characters who are mostly overdrawn and somewhat stereotypical (or archetypal, if you prefer), or the movie itself, which is basically a set of ingeniously orchestrated suspense set-pieces, strung together in clever, artful ways that defy plausibility with an almost cheerful impudence.More

Cinematheque honors Alfred Hitchcock, Bernard Herrmann

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You can always count on the American Cinematheque to give noiristas some love.

The Egyptian Theatre in Hollywood is running Suspense Account: The Films of Alfred Hitchcock, featuring his Technicolor spectaculars, such as “North by Northwest,” “Rear Window,” “Vertigo,” “The Birds,” “The Man Who Knew Too Much,” and “To Catch a Thief.” Also showing are suspense thrillers “Notorious,” “Shadow of a Doubt,” “Suspicion,” “Spellbound,” “Saboteur” and “Psycho.” Now under way, the series runs through June 9.

Additionally, from June 23-30, the Aero Theatre in Santa Monica will host A Centennial Tribute to Composer Bernard Herrmann (1911-1975), one of cinema’s most brilliant and influential artists. The series will screen “Cape Fear,” On Dangerous Ground,” “Citizen Kane,” “The Magnificent Ambersons,” “Vertigo,” “Obsession,” “Marnie,” “Psycho,” and “Hangover Square.”

Check the schedule for more details. The Egyptian Theatre is at 6712 Hollywood Blvd. The Aero Theatre is at 1328 Montana Ave. General admission is $11; members pay $7.

‘Cape Fear’ shows Mitchum at his most menacing, most noir

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Cape Fear/1962/Universal Pictures/105 min.

From the moment Robert Mitchum appears in “Cape Fear” with his slow swagger, Southern drawl and serious mean spirit, there’s no doubt he’s a tour-de-force bad guy. In fact, he is one of cinema’s greatest psychos. His character Max Cady ranks No. 28 on the American Film Institute’s list of the top 50 villains of all time.

Gregory Peck

The plot is straightforward but it’s a story that simmers with tension. Ex-con Max Cady puts the blame for his recent stint in jail squarely on the man who testified against him: Sam Bowden (Gregory Peck, who also helped produce), a prominent lawyer in a small Southern town. Seeking revenge for the eight years he spent behind bars, Cady launches a campaign of terror against Bowden and his family that culminates in a life-and-death struggle in a moonlit swamp.

The 1962 film, still chilling today, had all the ingredients for success: accomplished director J. Lee Thompson (who also made Peck’s 1962 adventure classic, “The Guns of Navarone”), a near-perfect cast, top-notch material (James R. Webb’s screenplay is based on John D. MacDonald’s novel “The Executioners”), a Bernard Herrmann score, cinematography by Sam Leavitt, art direction by Robert Boyle and editing by George Tomasini.

Herrmann, Boyle and Tomasini were frequent collaborators with Alfred Hitchcock. Of shooting in black and white, director Thompson said, “I thought the black and the shadows would enhance the story and color might spoil it.”

The cast includes TV comedienne Polly Bergen as Sam’s wife Peggy, Lori Martin as their daughter, Martin Balsam (“Psycho’s” ill-fated detective) as police chief Mark Dutton, Telly Savalas as gumshoe Charlie Sievers and Barrie Chase as Diane, a goodtime girl victimized by Cady.

To Peck’s credit, he understood that Mitchum’s character was more dynamic than steadfast and respectable Sam Bowden. Mitchum makes even a quick line, such as, “You sweatin’ a little, huh counselor?” glow with burning malice.

Thompson says in the making-of feature in the DVD, “Greg was conscious the whole time that the villain was the colorful part and that Mitchum was playing it beautifully. And he let him run with it. … The way [Peck] played the part and the strength he showed, it became a very good battle between the two men. It was wonderful teamwork between the two.”

Thompson also recalls the way Mitchum embraced the role. “This part is a drunk, a rapist and a violent man, and I live my parts,” Mitchum told him. “It was sort of a warning that we might have some stormy passages during the making of the film … and we did have some stormy passages,” laughs Thompson.More

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