Before and After Reservoir Dogs
As a film fan, for me, there was a time before Reservoir Dogs and a time after. Before, I was a guy who liked movies. Probably more than some people but certainly less than others. But after I saw that movie, I was…something different.
Looking back on it now, I can see clearly that Reservoir Dogs is the movie that jumped me into this weird…hobby. It took me from Guy Who Watches Movies to Guy Who Explores Movies. Before, I watched movies for entertainment. Action, comedies, the occasional drama. Mostly I watched whatever was current and mainstream. Anything outside of that was mostly unexplored territory for me.
I say mostly, because my aunt ran a video store in a neighboring town, and every now and then my dad would come home with something that was a little off the beaten path. But growing up where I did, we usually had to wait for the culture to filter down to us. Sometimes it did and sometimes it didn’t. In the case of movies, more often than not, it didn’t.
Employee Picks
Once I got out of the sticks, though, I discovered the Employee Picks section at Videoasis. I learned how to ask questions without annoying the almost universally surly employees, and I even got to know a few of ‘em. Once you broke through the tough exterior, most of ‘em were eager to recommend movies they loved.
That’s how I found movies like A Clockwork Orange, Straw Dogs, Aguirre: The Wrath of God, and The Mission.
But patient zero was Reservoir Dogs. And after it, watching movies would never be the same again.
Educated by the Video Store
Until I sat down to write this review, I’d never really thought about the symmetry here: Video store clerks introduced me to the wider world of cinema using the film of a director who learned his craft while working as a video store clerk.
That’s, like, poetry or something, right?
Whatever it is, it’s fitting. And it’s kinda cool in many ways, because my journey into the broader world of film eventually led me here. Without Reservoir Dogs, I probably never would have met Alvarez, Duke, Sailor, Kane, and all of the other Wastelanders who have been with us since our exodus from /Film. I’ve grown close to some of you, and we’ve built something unique here. And even though Tarantino will likely never know we exist, I think he would think that is pretty cool.
But the transition from Guy Who Likes Movies to Cinephile has come with costs, some I’m not sure I’d be willing to pay if I had to do it all over again.
A Look Behind the Curtain
Turns out, there’s a downside to turning the full weight of your curiosity onto something you’re interested in. The more you explore, the more you demystify the thing. The more you see the internal workings. It’s like looking behind the curtain and finding out Oz is just a little man in a funny outfit, pushing buttons and pulling levers.
Before I became a bonafide film fan, movies were like Oz: strange and beautiful and a little scary at times. But the more I pulled back that curtain, the more I learned about how movies are actually made, and the harder it became to ignore the little guy pulling the levers to make it all work. You start to predict plot lines. It becomes harder to be surprised. Or maybe you just can’t stop yourself from going “Oh, I know how they did that effect, isn’t that cool.”
And once you do that, the spell is broken.
The illusion disappears, and you’re left with the nuts and bolts of the thing. It’s like a child’s broken toy in some ways, springs and cogs spilling out of cracked plastic. And then it’s no fun to play with anymore.
From Hobby to Hard Work
That’s how watching movies has been for me for about the last 10 or so years. At times, it’s seemed more like a chore than a hobby, something to do for fun. I track my movies with lists and stats, keep intricate watchlists, and put pressure on myself to review movies when sometimes I just want to watch ‘em and let that be enough. People tell you you have to watch this or that, so you add ‘em to your list, and they pile up and up and up until it feels like you’re buried under obligations rather than doing something for fun.
Revisiting Reservoir Dogs
But here’s the crazy thing. When I sat down to rewatch Reservoir Dogs for this review, all of that went away. I even had my ipad out with the intention of taking notes as I watched. And you know how many notes I took?
Zero.
Not one note did I take.
In fact, I had to remind myself a few times throughout the movie that I was watching it to review it, because from the moment I pressed play on my 10th Anniversary 2 Disc Special Edition Artisan Box Set, I was swept along with Nice Guy Eddie, Mr. White, Mr. Pink, and all the boys in black.
From the first words out of Mr. Brown’s mouth, I was riveted.
Even though I’ve probably heard the “Like a Virgin” story a hundred times and had a hundred of my own conversations with friends about the “Like a Virgin” story, I was caught up in the telling of it. Every time Mr. Brown got sidetracked or interrupted by one of the other guys, I found myself hoping he would get back to the story. That he would finish it.
Tarantino the Wizard
As I write this now, I realize Tarantino was signalling to the audience with Mr. Brown’s analysis of the hit Madonna song.
He’s saying “Sit back, audience members. Relax and let me tell you a tale. We’ll get there, but we’re not taking any shortcuts, and we’re gonna do it my way. But I promise we’ll get to the end. And when we do, you’ll want to hear the story all over again.”
I mean, the sonofabitch is practically showing off. And you know he knows what he’s doing, because he gave himself that bit of dialogue. Mr. Brown’s not speaking to the other Dogs, he’s speaking to us.
Much has been made of Reservoir Dogs’ importance as an indie film. And it ought to be discussed in that context. Probably more now than ever considering the current state of the movie business and the crushing weight of AI influence on art.
Reservoir Dogs reminds us what one person with an idea and a burning passion to see it realized can do. It reminds us of the importance of the human part of drama and the power of raw storytelling. It reminds us that we mere mortals, too, can tell stories. Whether it’s with a pen or camera. You don’t need whiz bang effects or explosions. You just need a story and the will to tell it.
Believing in Magic Again
These are all good reasons to remember Reservoir Dogs and to discuss Reservoir Dogs.
But for me personally? It reminds me that I can still believe in magic, even when I know how the trick is done.
The magician just has to know what he’s doing.
He knows you know magic isn’t real. He knows you know there’s a funny little guy behind the curtain pulling levers and pushing buttons. But he also knows how to make you set that aside. He knows how to make you forget what you know and, for a short time, believe in magic again.
And to me, that is the mark of a great film.
Does it have flaws? Sure. But if it’s a choice between Reservoir Dogs and the polished digital sheen of the next thing Marvel shits out, I’ll take Reservoir Dogs–warts and all.
