Forgotten Great Moments in Movie History

Quentin Tarantino, it goes without saying, though it still needs to be said for context, loves movies. His original Big Kahuna Burger, “Reservoir Dogs”, lifted its Mr. Black/Mr. White/Mr. Pink nomenclature bit from “The Taking of Pelham One Two Three” (1974). And “Pulp Fiction” was just sort of one rolling movie-themed carnival, with a part-cinema wax museum, of sorts, where you could order a Douglas Sirk steak, never mind an all-important, never-explained briefcase that might’ve been pilfered from the set of “Kiss Me Deadly” (1955). In the morning after Butch has gone rogue, even, while Fabienne brushes her teeth, she’s got a motorcyle movie playing in the background, a detail I always loved because in Q.T. land, even when you’re on the run and in danger of being killed, people still watch movies. “Inglorious Basterds”, meanwhile was set in the midst of WWII’s European Theatre but it may as well have been on a movie backlot, with the movie industry itself playing a crucial part and a glorious old Parisian movie theater earning a starring role. Heck, “Django Unchained” and “Kill Bill” just are Blaxploitation and Chop Socky, respectively, duplicated and then expanded into A Band Apart Pictures (taken from a movie!!!) bouillabaisse. And Q.T.’s latest, “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood”, as the title implies, seems more of the same.

For all his references and outright homages to movies, however, the one thing that Tarantino does not serve up in his movies so frequently is the act of going to the movies. I mean, yes, people go to the movies in “Inglorious Basterds”, memorably, allowing for Q.T. to imagine the movie-going experience as something like the savior of the free world, which is a pretty righteous ode to the cinema, though that’s much more heightened than what I’m talking about. I’m talking more about the scene in “True Romance”, which was directed by Tony Scott but written by Tarantino and so just as much his joint, where Clarence goes to a triple kung-fu feature on his birthday and then is joined by Alabama and where, despite her being paid to be there, him and his love for the movies and the movies themselves lifts her higher. Even that, though, is pitched at a more romantic frequency than what I’m seeking in this here post about I’m about to unfold.

One of my favorite lines in Tarantino’s “Jackie Brown” is bail bondsman Max Cherry (Robert Forster) announcing his intention to go catch a movie leading his second-in-command, Winston (Tiny Lister), to ask what he’s going to see. “Something that starts soon,” Max replies, “and looks good.” And I love that line for two reasons. I love that line because it flashes me back to another time, one when you’d just watch wander down to the movie theater and, well, as he says, see what starts soon and looks good. You didn’t check Fandango on your phone; you just looked at a few posters and made a decision. Primitive, perhaps, but thrilling in its own low-key way, putting your fate in the hands of the movie gods. And I love that line because it evokes this man, Max Cherry, who’s his own boss and if he wants, in the middle of the day, can up and go catch a movie. Damn, ain’t that the dream.

That moment, however, comes later in the movie, and Max is saying it as something of an alibi for what he is actually about to go and do – that is, help the eponymous airline stewardess swindle $500,000. Tarantino, however, has set up Max’s ersatz solo movie date with a real solo movie date much earlier, one that we see just as it concludes, beginning with a shot just outside of the movie theater, its door still closed.

But then, the door flies open accompanied by a rush of music, presumably from the closing credits of the unseen movie, and this smiling couple, in the throes of post-movie enjoyment, which is key.

And after that couple passes by, and then another couple patrons, Max exits.

And he walks past a poster for “The American President”-

-and “Wolf”, pinpointing the time.

And...that’s it. We see him leave the movie. This is all set-up so he can run into Jackie Brown at the mall where the movie theater is located, but it’s this brief instant, this leaving the theater that nevertheless stays with me.

“Jackie Brown”, after all, is a movie about motion. It begins with Jackie aboard an airplane walkway, just standing there and letting it take her where she needs to go as the opening credits unspool. Over and over Tarantino just watches people walk, whether it’s Ordell and Beaumont walking and talking or Max following the money or Jackie in a burst of faux-commotion hurrying through the mall or Louis and Melanie haplessly wandering through the parking lot looking for his car or even a brief shot of Ray Nicolette sauntering into the office with his motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm. But none of these walks compare to Max’s. There’s that Bloodstone song dug up for the soundtrack by Tarantino, “Natural High,” “I’ll take to the sky on a natural high”, and what is the post-movie walk but that exactly that.

Robert Forster Wins All The Scenes

In venerable Grantland's ongoing "Who Won The Scene?" series they turned just other day to Quentin Tarantino's "Jackie Brown" as writer Jason Concepion pit "Samuel L. Jackson vs. Everyone Else." Well, except that saying "Everyone Else" is a bit misleading. He examines Jackson vs. Chris Tucker (Jackson wins) and Jackson vs. Pam Grier (Grier wins) and Jackson vs. Robert DeNiro (DeNiro) wins. Yet, nary a mention is made of Robert Forster. Oh, Forster's character - bail bondsman Max Cherry - gets mentioned; he just doesn't get his own showdown.

This is curious. This is curious because of everyone in Tarantino's supremely hard-hitting cast it was Mr. Forster who scored an Oscar nomination (Best Supporting, which went to Robin Williams for "Good Will Hunting"). It's a classic case of Q.T. career resurrection, yes, helping an actor who appeared in films like "Alligator" to get within sight of the monument's peak. And Q.T. wrote Forster a great role, sure, a role based on a character conceived by Elmore Leonard. But Forster infused it with a no-nonsense world-weariness. He's been everywhere, man, in a figurative sense. To wit, the first scene Mr. Forster and Mr. Jackson share, in which Mr. Jackson's aspiring gun-runner has come to Mr. Forster's bail-bondsman's office to acquire the monetary surety to get his pal outta the clink.

It's truly a showdown, and not because two actors are going toe-to-toe but because the two characters are feeling each other out, emblemized by Ordell asking Max, as soon as he gets off a phone call, "Where can I put my ash?" As in, his cigarette ash. "Use that cup there if you like," Forster replies with a smattering of matter-of-factness that reveals he will give no ground.

And he doesn't give ground for the whole scene. He remains perfectly calm, leaning back in his chair, hands in his lap, treating this like just another transaction with a too-cool-for-school "criminal mastermind" who puts his feet on Max's desk without asking. You can tell Ordell wants Max to tell him to put his feet back on the floor. You can tell Max knows Ordell wants him to tell him to put his feet back on the floor.

It's too simple to say that Jackson is over-acting and that Forster is under-acting, and that by under-acting, Forster is able to steal the scene right out from under Jackson. That's too simple because Jackson's character is an over-actor. Ordell is all smiles, wily charm, endless chatter, desperate to be a presence in every room he inhabits. Max, on the other hand, is to be in business with people like Ordell. So Forster simply reads and reacts, using all the finer points of his necessary business lexicon to more or less shut down all the arrogant posturing of the guy across from him, no doubt like he's done a thousand times before. "We're about done here, right?" Ordell asks at one point. "Gettin' there," Max replies, and Forster applies a look to the wording accentuating the fact that they are on his time.

And it's not just this scene. They have two more scenes together and Forster wins them too. The second scene is much like the first, same setting, same situation, with added edge, but the last scene finds Max being taken by Ordell at gunpoint. Often an actor placed in a circumstance where he/she is the only one sans weapon still elicits the greatest air of control (see: Bogart, Humphrey). That's not what Forster does. He's not in control. He knows it and accepts it. His aura in this sequence has a kind of morose concession, like he knows his odds are 50/50, and what can he do? But it's not a vulnerability. He's gone past that. He's made peace. Whatever may come. It's a level the guy sitting next to him could never comprehend.

Dissecting A Scene From Jackie Brown: The "Twist"

The screen is black. A rapping on a door. Fade in. Jackie Brown (Pam Grier) opens her door. We don't see who is AT the door because the camera consciously remains in the house. Jackie says: "Want your gun back? Come on in. I'll get it for you." She turns and exits stage right. Now Max Cherry (Robert Forster), bail bondsman, steps through the door and, thus, into the frame. He closes the door behind him.

Background: the previous night Max picked up Jackie at jail after Ordell (Samuel L. Jackson) bailed her out. Fearing for her life, Jackie stealthily thieved Max's handgun from his glove apartment to fend off Ordell's murderous advances.

The camera angle switches and we see Max straight on. He examines the house. He crosses his arms. He looks no-nonsense. We've seen this scene, right? We've seen it a thousand times. He's a gruff guy just doing his job who just wants his gun back who doesn't have time for this B.S. That's the expectation.

Jackie enters with the gun. "Max, I am so sorry about this," she starts. "I was afraid to ask to borrow it. I was afraid you'd say no. I mean, you'd have to." She hands him the gun. He takes it. He holsters it. Jackie says everything she says in a lightly flirtatious manner, trying to slither her way off the hook. Max STILL looks no-nonsense, like he's not going to let her slither her way off the hook. So Jackie tries another approach: "Want some coffee?"

Max says: "If you're having some." Wait, wait, wait. The way he says it is so cordial. Is this, like, a brunch date or something? What's going on?

She invites him in and offers him a seat as she goes to make the coffee in her kitchen. Max wonders "Did you get a chance to use it?" But he doesn't say it suspiciously or angrily. He really wonders. "I felt a lot safer having it," she replies.

Max: "Would you care to hang on to it for awhile? It wouldn't be legal but if it makes you feel better, I guess."
Jackie: "Thanks. But I got one now."
Max: "You went out this morning and bought a gun?"
Jackie: "Well, let's say I got one now, okay?"

Jackie goes to her record player and her thick collection of LPs. She puts on The Delfonics (remember, this is a Q.T. film). She and he banter a bit about the CD revolution (remember, this is 1997) and how Jackie has resisted it. The music momentarily transports Jackie away from her problems......but only momentarily.

The first half of the discussion that follows is standard fare for a heist picture. You know, how Jackie can scam both Ordell and the A.T.F. into getting Ordell's half a million bucks up from Cabo San Lucas - which is where Jackie flies for her job as an airline attendant - and into the country and manage to keep all for herself without landing herself back in jail or winding up dead by Ordell's hand. This, however, is just verbal foreplay, building up to the real intent of the sequence.

Jackie: "Well, I ain’t going back to jail, and I ain’t doing that probation thing again." (Pause.) "Max, how do you feel about getting old?"
Max: "You’re not old. You look great."
Jackie: "No, I’m asking you how do you feel about getting old. Doesn’t it bother you?"
Max: "It's not really something I think about. I guess I got sensitive about my hair a few years ago. It started falling out, so I did something about it."
Jackie: "How’d you feel about that?" 
Max: "I feel fine with it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have done it. I did it to feel better about myself, and, you know, I do. I look in the mirror. Looks like me."               
Jackie: "Yeah, but its different for men."
Max: "You know, I can’t really feel too sorry for you in this department. I bet that, except for possibly an afro, you look exactly the way you did at twenty-nine."
Jackie: "Well, my ass ain’t the same."
Max: "Bigger?"
Max: "Yeah."
Max: "Ain’t nothing wrong with that. Something else worry you?"
Jackie: "I always feel like I’m starting over. How many bonds you said you wrote?"
Max: "Fifteen-thousand."
Jackie: "Is that a lot?"
Max: "That's plenty."
Jackie: "Well, I’ve flown over seven million miles and I’ve been waiting on people for twenty years. Then after my bust, the best job I could get was with Cabo Air. Which is the worst job you can get in this industry. You know I make sixteen-thousand a year, plus retirement benefits that ain’t worth a damn. And with this arrest hanging over my head, Max, I’m scared. And if I lose this job, I gotta start all over again. And I ain’t got nothing to start over with. I’ll be stuck with whatever I can get. And that shit is more scary than Ordell."

The first time I saw this film I was barely twenty. I saw it, plainly, as a heist picture as made by the guy fresh off "Pulp Fiction." That's how everyone saw it - strike that! That's how everyone my age, or around my age, saw it. At the time of its release I was working as a lowly movie theater grunt and I picked up an extra shift at the Westwood 6 (may she rest in peace) which was showing "Jackie Brown" and I remember another grunt around my age saying to me that he did not like the film. And he did not like it because he kept expecting "some big twist" that never arrived.

Except it did arrive. The twist is this scene. "Jackie Brown" is not a heist film. "Jackie Brown" is a film about aging that uses the heist for cover. I didn't understand then.

I do now.